Game Over: Please Insert 4 Billion Coin
by Don't Mess With Aria
Summary: Follows the events of Mass Effect 2. After the Battle of the Citadel, Shepard's ship is attacked, and she wakes up with a new mission, a new crew, and a shadowy para-military organization watching her every move. Developing Garrus/FemShep.
1. Awake-Awake Again

Game Over: Please Insert 4 Billion Credits

Prologue

Awake

_Muted voices, bright lights glaring into my just-opening eyes. How long was I out?_

_Ugh. Worst wake-up ever. Don't get spaced again, Shep; people wait 'til the last minute to pull you back inside._

_Who's that woman? I don't know her. What's that damn beeping? I'm getting up._

_I move my arm, reaching for leverage, balance. Some other arm moves in front of me._

_Fish-frog arm; what the hell? I move my arm, and fish-frog moves._

_Oh shit, that's my arm. What the hell's happened?_

_The beeping's going wild. The brunette I don't know is arguing with someone else I don't know. I can feel my heart racing; that's probably what the beeping is complaining about. My breath rasps wetly in my chest; am I dying? They shouldn't have picked me up at all if I was in the vacuum too long._

_The brunette's giving orders; I can't hear them, but I hear the tone. She grabs my arm, and yes, it's my arm all pale and misshapen; does space do that? Does it make your limbs look like a rubber glove filled with vanilla pudding? She grabs my arm and forces it down, and the other guy must have been messing with an IV, because something warm and goofy starts to spread through my veins, and I'm on my way out again._

"_We almost lost her," the brunette says._

_You should have lost me. You were too late. _

Chapter One

Awake Again

Alarms were blaring as Shepard awoke a second time. She was still on what might be an operating table, but much of the medical paraphernalia had been removed. No IV, at least.

"Wake up, Commander Shepard."

What kind of way was that to speak to a patient? She was in no condition to be yelled at, yet. Maybe it was a military hospital. That was likely. She had sustained enough damage; it would have taken Alliance resources to put her back together after the vacuum tore her apart. Her heart raced as she raised her arm to check it. No longer transparent. No longer not-quite-solid. Good. Whatever had been wrong, they'd managed to fix it. Unless it was still a problem higher on the arm; she appeared to be wearing a plain black undersuit instead of a hospital gown, and it blocked most of her body from view.

"Commander Shepard, wake up now."

It had to be a military hospital. Where else could they be so annoyed at the fact that a patient was resting, recovering? Shepard moved her arms, her face, experimenting. She had some fresh scarring, but she seemed to be in one piece; that was hopeful.

"Commander Shepard, get your ass out of that bed right now."

Okay, that was a little much. Shep would have to take that up with the chain o' command, at some point. Put in a report with her supervisor. Was that the brunette from before? Shepard tried to remember the voice that had spoken while she was slipping in and out of consciousness. Yes, Shep decided. That's her.

Awfully chippy for a nurse.

Shepard sat up slowly. Everything hurt; she was used to that. What she wasn't used to was the light, like a sun was going supernova directly into her skull. She squinted a little, trying to cut down on the light. It didn't help.

"Commander Shepard, you're up. There's a locker in the corner. Go get the pistol out of it."

Pistol? Now? Where was this woman, anyway? Shepard looked around; no woman.

"We don't have time for this, Shepard."

Loudspeakers; of course. The woman wasn't in the room with her. The alarms kept blaring, and Shepard wondered if this was what Alenko's migraines were like. Well, she understood now how they could put him off-duty for days. This was miserable.

"Shepard, get the weapon out of the locker. Hurry."

Finally Shepard put two and two together. Alarms. Alone. Get the pistol. This was a training exercise. Now in her element, Shepard slipped her legs over the side of the bed, shifted her weight onto them, and promptly fell over.

"The hell?" she muttered, looking at her legs in confusion. They weren't numb; they just didn't work. She reached back to massage them to be sure; yes, she could feel them. Using the bed, Shepard hauled herself to her feet. She could stand, but barely. It must have been a coma; how long did it take, exactly, to lose all your muscle tone?

_Jeez, they pick me up late, _and _leave me in a coma without exercising my legs?_ Her arms were marginally better, but there was no way she was going to be able to hold a gun very effectively, for very long.

_Oh yeah, the gun._ Shepard painstakingly made her way across the room, holding onto desks and heavy equipment. She reached the locker and struggled to get it open; fine motor control was apparently shot, as well.

At least the gun was small, once she got it out. She struggled to check for a heat sink; the damn thing kept trying to wriggle out of her hands.

"Heat sinks are in the desk drawer, Commander."

_They've drugged me,_ Shepard decided. They must have. She was too groggy, too disoriented. She'd been wounded before, and she never came out of it like this. If someone forced painkillers on her, she'd often come out of it delusional and ready to fight, but never had she felt so… unused to her own body. It was like the entire thing was a foreign object to her.

Shepard eyed the big desk, estimating the distance and hoping that was the drawer the voice was referring to; she didn't want to have to check every desk in here. Holding the gun in both hands, she could no longer use handholds to keep herself standing. She shuffled, struggling to keep her balance. If she fell, it would be hell trying to get back up.

When she got there, even the damn drawer was giving her trouble; was it stuck? No, not stuck. She just wasn't pulling on it right.

_How the hell do you pull on a drawer wrong?_ Shepard was still out of it, but she was starting to get worried. How long had she been spaced for? Was there some residual brain damage they hadn't been able to patch up? Just what she needed. And instead of rehab, they were running her through drills first.

Shepard rummaged around the drawer, for a moment forgetting what a heat sink looked like. She was used to grabbing one by feel, to popping one into a pistol without even looking. Now, all the objects in the drawer felt the same; each had the same value. She actually had to study the gun to match up the shape to what she wanted.

Then, she tried to force the sink in backward. Almost, she announced that she wasn't prepared for the drill, that she needed some physical therapy before they tried again. Almost. But she was the Shepard, dammit, and she wasn't about to quit just because things were a little confusing.

Click.

_Excellent._ The heat sink was fitted flush into the gun. It made the gun heavier, but only by a little. She grabbed a couple more sinks that looked like the one she used, slipping them into her pocket. No reason to leave here under-prepared, even if it was a drill.

"You need to move, Commander. I'll blow the door. Get under cover."

_Door… door… there's the door._ Shepard lumbered forward again, this time aiming for the door. She stopped halfway across the room to crouch behind some smaller desks pushed together.

Or rather, she tried to crouch, but instead ended up sitting down hard; her knees did not agree with crouching anymore, it seemed.

Once she was in cover, the door blew inward, sending burning shards of metal toward her. None made it past the desk, though, so Shepard started getting up and moving again.

_There better be a damn party after this drill. I almost died. I deserve a damn party._

_With cake._

#

Shepard made her way into the next room, where she fell down almost immediately. She absently brushed the short red curls out of her face and looked to see why she had fallen. Someone, being clever, had left a dummy for this training exercise right in front of the door.

_Well, may as well act along properly._ Shepard felt for a pulse, and then froze. It wasn't a dummy. It wasn't an actor.

_This is a dead body._

Shepard's mind raced, running through a hundred whispered thoughts it didn't bother to share with her. Eventually, it reached a solution it did share with her.

_This is not a training exercise._

_Well, shit._

"Commander Shepard, you need to move."

#

Adrenaline helped as Shepard struggled through room after room. Some of her training came back to her, and she remembered to slide around corners, peer into every shadow of a room before deciding it was safe, and always watch for cover. Her mind was acclimating to the world again, albeit slowly.

Her body was less cooperative. She lost her balance if she moved too quickly; any speed above a shamble sent her tumbling to the floor. She quickly gave up on holding the gun in both hands, opting instead to tire her hands out in turns. She hoped she would make it out of this metal prison before both hands were completely useless, but she wasn't betting on it.

As she moved, she began to get a picture of where she was. It was definitely not a hospital; there were no beds, no patients, no doctors. The bodies she found scattered every few rooms were all wearing armor or uniforms, but no Alliance markings. She did find labs, huge rooms filled with computers, medical equipment, and the like. Some kind of science facility, she decided.

_But not ours._ No, definitely not Alliance; she didn't recognize the uniforms at all.

_Who the hell picked me up?_ If the Alliance had not been there to pick her up, who had? Besides the ship that had attacked theirs-

_Shit, did anyone else survive?_ They had to have; almost everyone was safe in pods before she had been spaced.

_Did anyone pick them up?_ That was a different question. If someone had picked her nearly-corpsed self out of space and left her crew to die, someone was going to answer for it.

_Ah, there it is._ Anger worked better than adrenaline alone; she did her best work angry. If she could stay angry, she had a good chance of making it out of here.

Shepard heard gunfire ahead and picked up her pace. Sliding around yet another doorway, she saw a soldier exchanging fire with several LOKI mechs, skeletal humanoid figures with a dual glowing red eye. She stepped forward to join the soldier, and tripped on the doorway. It was good timing; one of the mechs fired where her head had been only a moment before. She stayed low, crawling toward the soldier. At least the suppressive fire gave her a reason to crawl; she wasn't quite sure she'd be able to get up yet.

"Hey," she croaked. "What's going on?" The soldier whirled around, and if he'd decided to shoot her then, she wouldn't have been able to stop him. He checked himself, though, pulling the gun up before shooting her in the face. His eyes were wide, the whites brilliant against his dark skin.

"Holy shit, Shepard, if she's got you up, things must be pretty bad."

"Asked you a question, soldier," Shepard said. She tried to sound gruff, to put the old edge of command in it. She thought she sounded weak, instead. Pitiful. Certainly this guy wasn't jumping to attention.

"I've got a little issue at the moment, Commander."

Shepard leaned up against the low railing, took aim, and fired at one of the mechs.

And missed. The shot went wild, well above its head. She stood, stupefied for a minute, while the mech lined her up. The soldier made a motion and it exploded in a biotic warp, blue light controlled by the soldier tearing it apart. The soldier pulled her back down.

"I can handle this," he said.

_Bullshit._ He could handle the mechs, but he couldn't do a thing about her aim. She lined up again, more careful to stay under cover, and fired, nearly hitting one. She adjusted, and her third shot took the head off the last remaining mech. There's that, at least. She could aim, if she had the time.

"They're gone. You wanna fill me in now?" she asked.

"You shouldn't even be up, yet. You're not supposed to be out of bed."

"Sure, tell me what's going on, and I'll hop right back into bed," Shep said.

"That isn't going to work now. We're going to have to get you to a shuttle. If Miranda got you up, then things have gotten desperate. I was on my way to check on you, when I got pinned down. Did you have much trouble?"

"I can wait here all day. Tell me who you are, and what's going on."

The soldier sighed, seeing the determination in her face.

"We picked you up after the… incident. It took a while to fix you up," he said.

"And you are?"

"Jacob Taylor. More or less second in command of this facility. I suggest we get moving now, if you ever want to see the outside of it."

"You're not really explaining anything," Shepard said.

"Look, do you want to talk, or do you want to get out of here? We can still talk after we get out. If we talk first, we'll end up dead."

"Fine. Just tell me which of my crew made it out."

"Oh, I forgot you don't- almost everyone made it out. Some crewmen on the lower levels didn't make it. Your navigator- what's his name, Pressley? He didn't. Rest of the crew got out, including your non-human specialists."

Shepard closed her eyes. "Where are they now?" she asked.

"Commander Shepard… it's been two years. I don't know where they ended up," Taylor said.

"Two _years?"_ Shepard asked.

_Two years. I've been in a coma for two full years; why am I not back with the Alliance? Do they even know I'm alive?_

"Commander Shepard. I know this is a lot to take in, but we have to get moving again. I promise we can explain it all once we're safely away." Taylor pulled Shepard to her feet; she was too shocked to protest. He did let her arm go when she resisted, allowing her to walk on her own, at her own pace.

Two years; no wonder everything was so uncoordinated. Who the hell was actually able to keep the Hero of the Citadel hidden for two years?

_And why?_

Taylor's radio crackled.

"_Hello? Oh, God, is there anyone left, hello?"_

"Wilson, is that you?" Jacob asked.

"_Taylor, you're still here? Where are you?" _

"We are heading for the shuttles. I have the Commander with me."

"_You have the- wait, don't leave. Come get me. The mechs have me trapped."_

Taylor didn't answer right away. When he did, his voice was heavy.

"Negative, Wilson. You know our priorities, here."

"Belay that," Shepard said. She grabbed Taylor's omni-tool arm, speaking for him through the omni-tool radio.

"Wilson, we are on our way," she said. "What's your location?"

"_I- oh, God, they've found me-"_

"Wilson, your location," Shepard repeated.

"_Server room B. Please hurry, I- Ahh." _Through the radio, Shepard heard a gunshot.

"Wilson? Wilson, come in."

"_Oh… oh, God, I'm shot. Please help me."_

Taylor yanked his arm with the omni-tool on it away from Shepard.

"We can't, Commander," he said.

"Yes, we can. You've held me for two years. Whatever you wanted, you couldn't get it with ransom or a body. So I'm guessing you wanted me. And whatever you want me for, you're not getting a thing if you leave people behind."

"Come on, then," Taylor said. He took off at a slow jog, but the pace was torturous for Shepard. He paused frequently to duck into cover, take out any mechs in the area, or scan a room. Shepard couldn't keep up even with him moving in spates; each time he stopped, she'd barely reach him before he took off again.

_Punish me if you want, but I hope you know I'm made from sterner stuff._


	2. Lazarus, Come Forth

Chapter Two

Lazarus, Come Forth

Shepard followed Jacob Taylor as they made their way to server room B. Unable to keep up, Shepard rarely got to shoot anything. Which was lucky, since it took her so much time, now, to line up a shot.

_I need to spend some time at a firing range. If this guy Wilson is dead already because of me-_

Shepard shook her head. _Keep focus, Shep._

Taylor reached the server room, and Wilson, before Shepard did. When she slid around the doorway, Taylor was already crouched by the injured man, applying pressure to the leg. Blood spread in a pool underneath it.

"Shepard, grab some medi-gel out of the cabinet," Taylor ordered.

Shep grumbled to herself about taking orders, but she shuffled over anyway; there was no point in arguing when someone was injured. The cabinet door gave her some trouble, but not as much as the locker had before. Her hands were getting more used to things, already.

_Good. I'm pretty useless as a soldier if I can't fire a gun or open anything._

The cabinet was stuffed to overflowing with medi-gel and various other remedies; a small cascade slid out onto the floor when she opened it.

_Those can stay there._ There was no way she was going to crawl around for those, when there were plenty right in front of her. She stuffed a handful into a pocket, then brought a pack over to Taylor. Taylor applied it, and in a moment the wound was semi-sealed, and Wilson gained his feet.

_Shot in the leg,_ Shep tried to puzzle out. She felt there was something she wasn't quite getting.

_None of the mechs I saw were shooting for legs. At least half the bodies were headshot kills._ She almost had it, but the thought drifted away when Wilson started talking.

"I thought I'd be able to shut it down, but someone's fried the system," he said.

"You're not authorized for tech work here," Taylor said. "You don't even have access to this level. What were you even doing here?"

_Oh, good, I'm not the only one who's suspicious._

"Aren't you listening, Taylor? I was trying to help; I mean, they shot me."

_Yeah… but only in the leg. _Out loud, Shepard said, "We don't have time for this. You said we have to get out of here."

"Miranda first. We can't leave her here," Taylor said.

_You were willing to leave Wilson._

"Do you have a location on Miranda?" Shepard asked.

"Well… no," Taylor admitted.

"She's probably dead," Wilson said.

"Enough of that," Shepard snapped. "Taylor, you said we need to get to the shuttles. She probably headed that way, too, right?"

Taylor nodded.

"So we make our way there. If we don't find her, we secure the area, use it as a base while we search. Got it?"

"Got it, Commander," Taylor said, half-smiling. "Didn't know you were taking command, though."

"File a complaint later. Let's move," Shepard said.

#

Shepard had assumed command, but Taylor still took point. Shepard and Wilson were unable to move fast enough, so Taylor was vanguard by default. There were fewer mechs now, so he was able to handle them, bringing both his injured all the way to the shuttle bay doors.

"Here we go," he said.

"Wilson, you have the door once we're through. Taylor and I will clear the area," Shepard said.

Then the doors opened, and the brunette was standing there. Her eyes locked on Wilson's, jaw tightening.

"Miranda?" Wilson stammered. "I thought you were-"

Miranda shot him before he was done with his sentence. "Dead?" she finished for him.

"Miranda, what the hell?" said Taylor.

"He betrayed us, Jacob. He betrayed us all. I had to."

Shepard had her doubts. She also had her pistol trained on Miranda, trying not to let it tremble.

"Drop your weapon," Shepard said.

Miranda lowered it, instead, and a blue glow faded in around her. "That's not a good idea, Commander," she said.

Shepard glanced to Taylor; he had shifted slightly to stand closer to Miranda, and the same blue glow showed he was prepared to use his biotics, as well.

_Great. So, there's me, versus two armed soldiers who also happen to be biotics, capable of ripping me to shreds with their minds. Oh, and also I'll only be able to hold my weapon up for a couple more seconds before dropping it, at which point I'll lose any illusion of control I still have._

"Commander, I promise you, Wilson intended your death today," Miranda said. "Jacob and I are here to protect you. Anyway, the facility's pretty much clear now. We're the only ones left. Let's get to the shuttle."

Shepard knew she was out of options. She could pretend to go along with them, or she could fight and be taken prisoner. Either way, Wilson wasn't getting up again. She holstered her weapon and followed the pair toward the shuttle. A frisson of trepidation chilled her as she stepped onto it; the last time she was on a ship, she ended up spaced. Taylor paused, misreading her hesitation.

"Look, Commander," he said. "I know you don't trust us yet, but I can tell you who we are, at least."

"Jacob, not yet," Miranda said.

"We're not going to get anywhere with her if we can't tell her something," he told Miranda. "We're a cell of Cerberus, on the Lazarus project."

"Cerberus," Shepard repeated. "The human-first terrorists I kept running into while trying to stop Saren?"

"Sort of. Look, it's not that simple. We don't actually have contact with any other cells. Whatever they're up to, we don't know about it," Taylor said.

"You're right; that's nothing like the way terrorist organizations are set up." Shepard rolled her eyes. The best idea would probably be to leave the shuttle, steal a different one. However, all the running around after her extended sleep had drained her, and both Miranda and Taylor were armed and wanted to keep her. She pushed past Taylor to sit down; plush leather cradled all her sore spots as she settled in.

"I'm not defending what anyone else did," Taylor continued. "Just explaining a few things here. Our cell was in charge of exactly one project."

"The Lazarus project; you've said that," Shepard said.

_Lazarus. There was a story about that. In the Bible, back before Mindoir was-_

Shepard squashed the thought. She still couldn't think about Mindoir; couldn't even remember, didn't want to.

Taylor faltered, looking to Miranda.

"We were tasked with finding Commander Shepard's body and bringing her back to life," Miranda said. Shepard blinked slowly.

_When Shepard opened her eyes, she found herself back in space. She had just forced Joker into a pod, sent it flying since she was unable to climb in with him. Then she lost her grip; went tumbling nowhere, with no direction designated as up or down. Cold seeped in through her armor, and a hissing from inside her suit told her that she was losing air._

_She struggled with the hose, but it wasn't loose, it was just leaking. Leaking away her oxygen. Leaking away her life._

_Someone would pick her up. She knew that. Never mind that her ship was gone, never mind that the attackers were unlikely to pull her in, someone was going to pick her up._

_They had to._

_Shepard kicked at nothing._

_Shepard struggled to breathe nothing._

_After a time, her eyes slipped closed, aligning all the individual nothings into one big nothing._

In the present, her grey eyes opened again.

"You expect me to believe that I died, and you brought me back?" she asked.

_Lazarus, come forth!_

"Yes, Commander," Miranda said. "We picked up your body right away, and we've spent the last two years bringing you back."

"You're saying you resurrected me from the dead," Shepard said.

"We know this is difficult to believe," Taylor said.

"Difficult isn't the word." Shepard crossed her arms over her chest. What did these people want from her, and how did it benefit them for her to think she had been dead? More importantly: would it do her any good to ask them?

_Probably not._

"When do I see the guy in charge?" Shepard asked.

"We're taking you to the Illusive Man right now," Miranda told her.

"Fine. Wake me when we get there." Shepard settled more deeply into her seat. She let her eyes close to only a slit. She was not going to be sleeping with either of these people around, but maybe they'd slip up and say something while she was "out."


	3. Very Illusive

Chapter Three

Very Illusive

Of course, no one believed for a second that Shepard was sleeping. You'd like to think that the good guys will always win because all the terrorists are dumb, Shep thought, but it didn't always work that way; Miranda and Taylor didn't discuss anything interesting while she pretended to sleep.

_Stupid Cerberus._

While the shuttle took them who-knew-where, Shepard tried to remember everything she knew about the shadow organization. They weren't afraid of experimenting on people, she knew. They were strongly human first- and, Shep suspected, human-only if they could get away with it. They'd killed Admiral- Admiral-

_Damn it, what was his name?_ Shepard wondered again about brain damage and blank spots. She remembered chasing Saren down. She remembered the Reaper, and its promise that the rest were still coming. She remembered her crew- or did she? If she completely failed to remember someone, how would she even know?

_Wish I had Tali's holo, now._ Shep smiled slightly, but quickly erased the expression before those Cerberus thugs noticed. The holo, though; it had been on her desk on the _Normandy;_ long gone unless she could get another copy from her crew.

_Friends._ Shepard sighed. Fine, friends. If you insist. She was willing to admit that they had become more than crew in their months of saving the galaxy… "friends" just sounded so odd though, in any context that involved Shep herself.

Still. Tali had insisted on a group hologram, and even Shep had barely protested. Wrex had had to pose with the biggest gun he had. Garrus, cracking jokes- you wouldn't know it to look at him, but the big turian had a sense of humor. Joker, down from the cockpit; he usually told a dirtier joke than Garrus, but they got along well. Liara. Alenko. Not Williams; Williams was gone long before the holo was taken.

_Where are they all now?_ Shep wondered. Taylor had told her that almost everyone made it out, including all the non-humans. Not that it could be assumed that they were still okay, or even alive. Two years. Tali would still be with the Migrant Fleet. Joker, Alenko, Alliance men to the core. Liara? Wrex?

_I wonder if Garrus got through his Spectre training okay._ Garrus would be good. Shep could use someone to get her sparring back to the level she needed. Not to mention her shooting; she didn't know anyone more competitive with a sniper rifle than Garrus Vakarian.

Shepard was deep enough in thought that she was surprised when Miranda gently shook her shoulder.

"We're here, Commander," Miranda said. Shep followed Miranda and Taylor onto a small orbiting station. Everything was chrome and windows. Shep's eyes were drawn to the view of space through the thick glass.

_I died out there,_ she thought, testing the words. No. She still didn't believe it. She was alive now, and that was pretty solid evidence against having died.

"You can speak to the Illusive Man downstairs," Miranda said. "He's waiting for you."

Shepard looked where she pointed, and made her way to the stairs. Her muscles were no less weak, but had stiffened up on the long shuttle ride. They had never been used, then she had jumped out of bed and stormed a lab facility, no warm-up, no cool-down. Then she had plunked herself into a comfy chair and pretended to sleep. Not bright.

_They'll adjust_, she thought, concentrating on not falling down the stairs. One of the benefits of staying in excellent condition was you could shake off a bad couple of days. Shep's brow furrowed. Would that still apply, though? How much of her original body would the vacuum have left intact? If this was a brand-new body, none of her hard work prior to her death would make any difference.

_Enough of that. Two terrorists- three, once the Illusive Man backs it up- is hardly conclusive proof that you were ever dead._

There. She reached solid ground in her mind at the same time she reached the bottom of the stairs. On even keel again, she stepped forward into an empty room.

_Hello? Illusive Man?_ Shepard's nerves screamed 'trap,' but it wouldn't make any sense; they had already captured her. Or they would have, had she resisted going along. Hard to capture someone who willingly went with you.

_Well, moderately willing. Still not exactly by choice._

After a moment, a circle of light appeared on the floor, and grew upwards to form a hologram.

The Illusive Man- or so Shep assumed- sat in an executive's chair in the center of the light, smoking a cigar. He looked maybe sixty, but given his access to technology, he could have been any age. His eyes had an odd sheen to them; some kind of enhancement, Shep assumed.

"Commander Shepard. So good to finally meet you- well, almost in person, I suppose," he said. Shepard's teeth gritted at the false joviality.

"Get to the point. What do you want with me?"

"Brusque," he said. "Then I'll be brief. Humanity is facing a threat. Possibly the greatest threat of our existence."

"The Reapers, I know. They're a concern for more than just humanity," Shep said.

The Illusive Man grimaced slightly. Shepard thought that she was supposed to miss it, but she did not.

"Yes, well. You can save everyone by taking out the Reapers. How are you feeling?" the Illusive Man asked.

Shepard stared. She had no intention of engaging in small talk.

"Why me? There are millions of soldiers."

"You're the best, Shepard. You've already fought a Reaper and won. You're meant to fight this war, even if you were dead before it really got started."

_There it is._

"Besides, you're a hero. You can pull together the crew you'll need. Then you can find out why we have human colonies disappearing, and how it's connected to the Reapers."

"Why should I pull a new crew together? I had a crew. You may remember them. They were the ones who fought that first Reaper with me," Shepard said.

"Yes, well, we can't always get what we want, can we? Your crew's dispersed. You'll need a new crew. But never mind that now. First, you'll be going to a colony called Freedom's Progress. Every man, woman, and child there has vanished. No sign. No one knows why. You'll find out."

"I don't recall having joined up with Cerberus," Shepard said.

"Go anyway." The Illusive Man's hologram was shutting down as he said this; apparently, there was to be no more discussion on it.

Shepard thought for a moment. On the one hand, she would like to tell her new CO to take a flying leap. On the other, there was nothing wrong with investigating a missing colony. She was stuck with Cerberus for the time being, until she could get back to the Alliance, or to the Citadel where she had originally been granted Spectre status. Playing along at this point would cost her nothing, other than the pleasure of balking people she didn't like. It would be juvenile to dig in her heels just for that, right? Cooperation earned her the best chance at her freedom… right?

_You're not going to be able to talk yourself into a pointless tantrum. You may as well get started._ Well, then, she was going to Freedom's Progress. With Miranda and Taylor dogging her every step, she assumed. Now the only thing left was to navigate the stairs back up.


	4. Freedom's Progress

Chapter Four

Freedom's Progress

Shepard sat in the shuttle again, waiting to arrive at Freedom's Progress. Hopefully, whatever was causing the mass abductions was gone. If she was going up against a thresher maw in this condition, she would end up dead again before the day was out.

_Not dead again, just dead. You haven't been dead yet._ Shepard corrected herself every time she had the thought, but it was starting to be a losing battle.

"Commander, I asked if you have any orders." Miranda looked exasperated as Shepard finally looked at her. Had she been talking long?

"Survivors first. Anything the Illusive Man wants second." Shepard ran her hands through her hair, annoyed. She preferred to keep the red curls pinned up, but not only were there no pins, someone had also cut the stuff short enough that she couldn't even braid it and get it partially out of the way. Just the feel of hair moving loosely was enough to give her a nervous habit of running her hands through it.

"There probably won't be anyone there." Miranda tossed her own dark hair slightly; Shepard smothered a smile.

_Does she think this is some kind of girly hair competition? Should I whip mine around and lick my lips at her?_

"We won't know until we look," Shepard said, struggling to her feet as the shuttle settled on the surface. She hoped there would be a rest after this; her abused muscles were insisting that she'd torn every one of them already. And she firmly believed that Cerberus armor was not only poorly made, but much heavier than Alliance armor.

_Sulk later. You have a job to do._

Taylor threw open the shuttle door, and the three of them hit the ground, not running, but at least at a brisk pace that Shep could barely maintain. Shepard missed her assault rifle. She couldn't carry one right now, but it seemed so dangerous to be walking around armed only with pistols, even if two of the ground team were biotics.

"No bodies," Miranda commented.

Shep had noticed that as well. No bodies, no signs of battle, not so much as a single scuff in the dirt. Warehouses, storage rooms, and living areas looked as though everyone had just gotten up and left. A ghost town.

"Mary Celeste." Taylor had picked up a fork from a fully-laid table.

"What was that, soldier?"

"Nothing, Commander."

Shepard struggled to continue, though everything was weighing her down. Miranda was up ahead, setting a truly cruel pace for the not-yet-recovered Shepard. The gun, though only a pistol, was too heavy for her to hold comfortably. And the armor was just ridiculous; not fitted properly and too heavy, besides.

_This is just balls. They didn't bring me back at all, just a useless weakling of a zombie. They wasted their money._

"Look out!" Miranda, still ahead, had stumbled across some FENRIS mechs, activating them. She backpedaled, firing at the headless robot dogs. Taylor threw out an arm and ripped them apart with his biotic abilities. Shepard had time to raise her gun, then the mechs were finished before she could fire.

"This isn't right; they've been reprogrammed to attack people," Miranda said.

"Someone's here." Shepard let her gun hang for the moment, glancing around. All the buildings looked empty, but there was no telling what was going on inside of any of them.

_Especially that one._

"Did you hear that?" she whispered. Taylor and Miranda faced the next building with her, exchanging glances before slowly shaking their heads at her.

"I thought I heard- there it is." A quiet scuffling dragged itself across her awareness; Miranda and Taylor still appeared not to hear it.

_Well, they're brand-new ear drums. Don't infants hear really well? Maybe?_

Shepard tried to move forward, graceful and silent as she had always moved before. Instead, her armor clunked and her feet dragged across the ground, making much more noise than what she had heard from inside. Still, Miranda and Taylor had heard nothing, and so weren't watching her quite as closely. Shepard opened the door and found herself staring directly at half a dozen rifle barrels. Miranda and Taylor stepped toward her, but she put a hand up, carefully so she didn't startle anyone into firing.

Shepard's eyes moved from the guns to the people holding them. Each face was masked, the females wearing elaborate hoods over the back of the masks.

_Quarians. Quarians are peaceful, right?_

"Shepard? Is that you?" Shepard almost recognized the voice. She should have; after all, she only knew one quarian personally-

Then it clicked. "Tali?" she asked.

"Shepard, you're alive! Get those guns down. Shepard, I can't believe it. We all thought you were dead. I went to the funeral. You're really alive?"

"Apparently."

"Tali'Zorah, you're friends with these people? They wear Cerberus markings." The protesting quarian had his gun lowered, but still looked ready to start shooting at any moment.

Miranda raised her chin. "We have no reason not to be here. This is a human colony. What business do you have here, anyway?"

"Enough," Tali said, stepping between them. "I know Shepard, Prazza. That's good enough. Don't forget who's in command here."

"Same goes for you, Miranda," Shepard said. "So, what _is_ the story, Tali?"

"Veetor came here for his Pilgrimage. Then, something happened to the colony. When we got here, all the colonists were missing, Veetor was hiding, and he's apparently reprogrammed all the mechs to kill anything that moves." Tali's shoulders sank for a moment.

"Tough command, Tali. You think we can help?"

"Maybe… we think we have him pinned down, now. If you take your team to the main warehouse, we can go around back and draw fire. There's a heavy mech guarding it."

"All right then. Let's move." Shepard headed in the direction Tali had indicated, Miranda and Taylor on her heels arguing over whether this was part of the mission.

"Taylor. Miranda. And by the way, what is your last name?"

"Lawson."

"Lawson, then. You two can stow it. I'm in command here, in case you've forgotten. Besides, Veetor is the best chance of finding out what happened here, seeing as he was already here."

Shepard's radio crackled.

"_Be careful, Shepard. My men have spotted drones ahead."_

"Thanks, Tali."

Drones buzzed by close overhead, causing the three human soldiers to duck and fire on them. Lawson and Taylor each had powerful biotic attacks that knocked them out of the air. Shepard followed each falling drone with her gun, only firing once it had hit the ground.

_It's getting better, though. I will get my muscle memory back, eventually._

"_Damn it, Shepard!" _Tali swore through the radio.

_What the hell did I do?_

"What?" she asked aloud.

"_Shepard, Prazza and his group rushed ahead. They're already at the warehouse being torn apart by the mech. Please hurry; I can't help the wounded and fight that thing."_

Shepard picked up the pace as best she could. Despite having disagreed with the mission, Lawson and Taylor quickly outstripped her, arriving at the warehouse and taking positions. They fired from under cover, but Shepard could see it was too late. She arrived in time to see the last of Prazza's team killed by the heavy YMIR mech, an eight- or ten-foot tall robot that didn't notice being hit by small arms fire. Once it finished off the quarians, it turned on Shepard's crew. Between Miranda's ability to overload the machine and Taylor's warp, it was taken out in short order.

"Tali, what's your location?" Shepard asked her omni-tool.

"_Trying to stop my crew from bleeding to death, north of your position. You go on, I've got this."_

Shepard nodded to her crew and approached the oversized warehouse. Lawson and Taylor were ready to fire should they need to. Shepard slid open the door.

Screens of disparate sizes covered the far wall, looking like they had been scavenged from various places. Shepard saw dozens of images flash by and gave up trying to track them. Her eyes were brand-new, too.

A quarian was hunched over a workspace in front of the screens, mumbling to himself.

"Veetor?" Shepard asked.

The quarian ignored her, continuing his muttering as he obsessed on the screens. The flickering was giving her another migraine, and his attention was locked, unable to be pulled away.

Shepard painstakingly typed something into her omni-tool, and all the screens went blank.

"What?" The quarian turned. "How… you escaped? How?"

"We didn't escape. We just got here. Can you tell us what happened?" Lawson and Taylor moved closer as Veetor reactivated one of the screens, bringing up security footage from earlier.

Human colonists were being moved on floating stretchers. A race Shepard didn't know was directing the stretchers as clouds of insects swarmed and dispersed.

"Collectors," Miranda breathed.

"Explain." Shepard crossed her arms.

"No one's really sure. They have high technology, and sometimes buy up large amounts of slaves." Miranda shook her head. "I've only ever seen pictures."

"It's not just humans, either," Taylor added. "They'll buy volus, elcor… it seems random to us, but who knows? They probably have some kind of reason."

"Slavers," Shepard said. It was not a question. Echoes of screams long-gone tried to reverberate through her head, but she shut them down.

_No more. Mindoir is over with._

"Slavers," Veetor agreed. "They have something… stop the colonists from running. I got readings of it."

"Good, then you'll be useful when we bring you back," Miranda said.

"Excuse me?" Tali had finally caught up with them. She started yelling at Miranda, and Miranda argued right back until Shepard interrupted.

"Enough." Migraine, slavers, and yelling combined into a symphony of agony in her head. Her vision was fading in and out, black explosions eating up most of the view.

"Lawson, let's try to keep any kidnappings until my second day on the job. Tali." Shepard nodded at her, and Tali gestured for two of her remaining crew to help Veetor.

"Glad it's you in charge, at least," Tali said.

"Tali? We really could use the data, though." Shepard didn't ask, just stated what she needed and waited. Tali paused.

"Of course, Shepard. Anything to help you." Tali emphasized the last word as she stared pointedly at Miranda. "I'll send a copy as soon as I can." Shepard waited until the quarians were gone before slumping slightly; she was barely able to keep her feet at all.

She should have waited longer. Taylor was immediately by her side, supporting her with an arm around her waist.

"Easy there, soldier. I'm fine."

Taylor ignored her. "Miranda, we should have gotten her to the doctor, first. She's up way too early," he said.

"The Illusive Man wanted to see how she handled. She can see the doctor as soon as we report, I'm sure."

Shepard was still half-encircled by Taylor's arms. She started to pull away, but in her current state, the most she'd be able to do is hurt herself.

_Wait. There's one other thing to try._ Shepard laboriously lifted her pistol and placed it against Taylor's head. He froze.

"Mr. Taylor, if you do not immediately stop trying to play grab-ass with your commanding officer, I may find that you no longer have a place on my crew." Shepard's full weight immediately came down on her own feet as Taylor dropped her and backed away. She swayed a moment, but kept her balance and holstered her weapon before shuffling toward the pick-up zone.

_There we go. Look hard enough, and there's always a way to get something done._


	5. Normandy Two

Chapter Five

_Normandy Two_

"Good work, Shepard. The quarians even sent out all the intel we needed." The Illusive Man's hologram applauded sarcastically, cigar smoke traveling a few feet upward before it reached the limit of the hologram. "We didn't get anything new, but they did at least confirm that the Collectors were involved."

"If you knew that already, why'd you send me on the pointless mission?" Shepard was physically exhausted, in addition to being tired of this man's bullshit already.

"We needed proof before we attempted to follow them beyond the Omega 4 relay; ships tend not to come back once they've gone through it."

"And what does any of this have to do with the Reapers?" Shepard asked.

"If the Collectors can manipulate the relays, they must have some connection to the Reapers. Although none of that is your concern right now. You need to focus on building your team." The Illusive Man's odd eyes gleamed. "I've forwarded some dossiers to your computer. You'll find everything you need on your ship."

"I like my team." Shepard wanted to run her hands through her hair, but stopped herself. She wouldn't fidget in front of him.

"I already told you, they're gone. Your friend Vakarian's disappeared, Alenko is classified, the krogan Wrex is trying for world peace in the demilitarized zone, and that asari works for the Shadow Broker, now. Take a look at the dossiers. We've found you the best specialists. I'm sure they'll suffice."

"What about my Spectre status? I'm sure the council would help." Shepard wasn't sure of this at all; they'd been useless every other time she'd asked for anything. But she needed to get away from Cerberus.

"You can try that. But first, you're going to Omega. There's a salarian doctor there named Mordin Solus. We need him to help figure out how to counteract the seeker swarms."

"Seeker swarms?" Shepard asked.

"The bugs you saw on the Collector video. They're how the Collectors are getting all the colonists without a fight." Smoke drifted toward the ceiling. Silver eyes gleamed.

"Don't you think that's the kind of information you should be telling me?"

"I just did. One last thing. I found you a pilot. One of the best; you should be able to work with him." The Illusive Man keyed a button and the hologram faded out.

"Hey, Commander."

Shepard turned. Joker was back, ambling toward her like she had never been away.

"Joker, you made it out okay. Sorry to see you with this outfit, though." _How the hell is Cerberus getting to us?_

"Well, you know. After the Alliance decided to start pretending there was no Reaper, they grounded me. I mean, no flying? No flying. Are they serious?" Joker started walking, rolling in his peculiar, careful gait, leading Shepard to a part of the station she hadn't seen before.

"So you joined up with Cerberus just to fly?" Shepard couldn't stop the disappointment that crept into her voice.

"Well, there was that. And then they made an offer I couldn't refuse." Joker stopped at the door to the main docking bay and gestured Shepard forward. Shepard stepped forward, to find the _Normandy_ waiting for her. Her breath stopped as her heart thudded behind her eyes.

"Beautiful, isn't she? They rebuilt her from the ground up. I got to help with some of the things that could be improved over the first one."

Shepard barely heard him. In her mind, she was back in space, floating, kicking, watching as her ship was torn apart and sent scattered in a hundred directions. And there was the same damn ship, sitting right in front of her.

_Not the only Lazarus on this mission, I see._ That reminded her to ask.

"Joker- these people keep trying to tell me I died." Joker shuffled his feet, staring at the ground.

"Yeah, well, you did."

"So you believe them." Shepard sighed.

"Believe _them?"_ Joker's head came up and he gaped. "Commander, you may remember you shoved me into a pod right before you were spaced. I saw you die. They didn't just grab you and resuscitate you, you-" Joker swallowed hard. "I watched you. I watched you until you stopped kicking, and then… it was a while before your body floated to where I couldn't see it. You died, Commander. You may not trust them, but trust me on this. They aren't lying about your death." Joker leaned against the wall, head hanging once more.

_He needs something. I'm in command again. What would Anderson have done?_ Shepard struggled to remember. Finally, she reached out and awkwardly patted Joker on the shoulder.

"It's all right, soldier. Let's… let's get on that ship."

#

_Sure, let's just get on the damn ship. Never mind that it killed me. Never mind that we should have been stealthed. Let's not build a better one, let's build the same damn one and fly right back out in it._

Shepard pretended to admire the thing while she struggled to take that first step. It waited like a deadly animal, ready to chew her up and spit her out again. She could almost hear it laughing at her. Joker had gone ahead, and Lawson and Taylor were preparing to move to the _Normandy,_ gathering everything they would need from the station.

_If they come out here and see me afraid to get on the stupid ship, I'm sunk._

Shepard made her way onto the ship.

_The more things change…._ There were some differences between this ship and the original _Normandy._ Nothing spectacular, just enough change to make her feel as though she were on a nightmare version instead of the real thing. She had the feeling that things were moving around behind her back, that any corridor might suddenly rip off the ship and leave her exposed to the vacuum again.

"Commander Shepard?"

Shep whirled around to see a young girl in Cerberus armor, punky amber hair at odds with the military setting.

"I'm Yeoman Kelly Chambers," the girl said. "If you need anything at all-"

"Cabin," Shepard interrupted.

"Oh. Yes, ma'am. Take the elevator to the top level. It's the only room- Ma'am? I can explain my duties to you?"

Shepard ignored everything after "elevator" and walked over to it, jamming the button down for one. She waited, arms braced next to the door, while the elevator crawled upward, the walls seeming to squeeze down on her until she couldn't breathe.

The moment the doors opened, Shep stormed through the door to her cabin, setting it to lock, and hurried into the bathroom. She retched, but she hadn't eaten anything in the time she'd been awake; there was nothing in her stomach to lose. She splashed some water on her face and looked at it in the mirror.

_Is that the best they could do?_ New scars criss-crossed her face and neck. She would probably find similar scarring everywhere else. She wasn't going to check, but she remembered that she was wearing Cerberus armor and was suddenly consumed by the need to be out of it. Her still-clumsy fingers fought with the buckles, yanking pieces off before they were unclasped properly. Once stripped, she got into the shower. She shook under the hot water, needing to calm herself and not knowing how. She wasn't used to stress reactions, to not being in complete control of herself. It was almost as disorienting as the whole dead-alive thing and the damn killer ship. When she finally stopped shaking, she found that her muscles were still weak. Once she had spoken to the crew and set them on their course, she would come back here and lie down, maybe grab something to eat in the mess. She dried herself quickly, not bothering with her new, shorter hair-

_Well, that's easier anyway-_

And looked through her cabin for something to wear. Her undersuit needed a wash by now, and every damn thing in her drawers was marked with Cerberus insignia. She yanked a plain black tank top and matching underwear out of the drawer and stomped over to the intercom.

"Yeoman Chambers!" she barked.

"Yes, ma'am," came the immediate reply. "Anything you need. I'm here to assist-"

"Clothing. Any set of clothing that I can wear that doesn't say Cerberus on it."

"Um, I… I'll find something, ma'am."

Ten minutes later, Chambers was at the door. Shepard answered it in her underclothes.

"This was all I could find." Chambers's face was anxious. She half-offered a mechanic's coveralls, unsure of whether Shepard would want it.

"That's fine. Thank you." Chambers waited, looking away while Shep tried to climb into the coveralls without sitting down or falling.

"Is there something else, Yeoman?"

"Commander, Miranda Lawson wanted to speak with you, to confirm our heading."

"Tell her I'll meet her in the briefing room in ten. And get the mess to make me some plain hamburger or something." Her stomach grumbled approval; she hoped it would still be happy once she started eating it. Ship food was never great for unsettled stomachs.

"Yes, ma'am. Right away, ma'am." Chambers disappeared back down the elevator. Shepard fought with the straps on the coveralls, and eventually just let them drop. It would stay at her waist, and the tank top was good enough.

_If they have a problem with it, they should have gotten something that wasn't Cerberus._ She remembered how often it had annoyed her that her old clothes had all been marked N7, to designate her as one of the Alliance's elite Marines. She wouldn't complain about that now.

Shepard checked herself in the mirror one more time. She wasn't in uniform, and she was still too pale, but her crew would just have to deal with it for the time being. She squared her shoulders, wondering if she could still pull off the command look. She thought it worked. She may be too pale, but the scarring over her cheeks made her look much tougher than she felt right now.

_Well, Chambers seemed nervous enough. Maybe Taylor's already telling people how I drew a weapon on him._

Shep hoped he had. It was unprofessional, but right now being seen as the crazy captain would help.


	6. Captain

Chapter Six

Captain

The briefing room was a vaguely oval shape, the entire space nearly filled with a table that looked like a toilet seat, two curved arms surrounding a hole in the middle. Miranda Lawson and Jacob Taylor were already waiting. They had clearly showered before the meeting, as well, but had chosen to put on Cerberus uniforms once more.

Lawson raised an eyebrow at Shep's more casual attire but didn't mention it. Shep could have raised an eyebrow right back, given that Lawson's "uniform" was some kind of white, skin-tight cat suit.

"The Illusive Man said we'd be heading to Omega for Dr. Solus," Lawson said. "Unless you have any objections."

_I wonder if they'd notice if I just went straight for the Citadel? They probably might._

"Fine. He said Solus would be able to help with the Seeker swarms?" Shepard asked.

"We think so. They have some kind of paralytic, from what we can tell. We don't know how it works, but biochemical agents fall under one of Dr. Solus's many specialties."

"Then we go to Omega. Was that all?"

"You'll need to read the dossiers," Taylor said. "We have more people to pick up-"

"I was under the impression that we needed Solus right away. Does anything in the dossiers contradict that?"

"No, Commander."

"Then I'm not sure why you called this meeting at all. I can read the other dossiers after we pick him up, and his on the way to Omega. I'll go tell Joker to head out. Dismissed," Shepard said.

Shepard turned and made her way to the cockpit. Everywhere were Cerberus personnel, which combined with the death ship, were going to make her life difficult for the next few weeks.

_Or months. Or years._

Even Joker had been wearing Cerberus colors. He still was, Shepard saw as she entered the cockpit. His chair swiveled towards her, and he gushed about the ship.

"Do you see this shit? Swivel chairs. Leather seats. Flying at the height of luxury," he said.

"Would you care to rephrase any of that?" Shep asked.

Joker coughed.

"Uh… do you see this shit, ma'am?"

"We're headed to Omega. Plot a course." Shepard started as a holographic sphere popped out of the controls, rotating until it appeared to be a metal eye, opening and closing in time to its words.

"I would be happy to plot a course for you, Captain," it said.

"What is that?" Shep asked.

"Oh, this." Joker rolled his eyes. "I guess they just think a cripple can't fly a ship like this. They installed an A.I. babysitter for me."

"Mr. Moreau, my job is not to fly the ship for you. I am merely in charge of navigation, analysis and advice, and assisting should we be attacked and need to defend ourselves," the A.I. said.

"They call it EDI," Joker added. "They think it's my fault we were ambushed last time."

"No one has said that, Mr. Moreau."

"Enough," Shepard said.

_Illegal A.I. Access to every part of the ship, I'm sure, in addition to any files I send or receive, and any conversations that should be private. Wonderful._

"Just, one of you get us to Omega 4. And you," she added to the A.I. "I don't like 'Captain.'"

"Just call her 'Commander,' EDI; she has a thing about the other title. Oh, before you go, Commander-"

Shepard paused in the doorway.

"I, uh... picked you up a little something. With some help. It's down in the med-bay."

"Thanks, Joker, but I'm a little dead on my feet right now," Shep said.

"I think you'll like it," Joker said, drawing the sounds out into a sing-song.

"Fine."

_Med-bay. Mess. Nap. No, the dossier on Solus, then nap. Damn it._

Shepard took the elevator down to deck three, hoping the med-bay was still in the same place. It was, and it wasn't the only thing that stayed the same there.

"Commander Shepard," rang a familiar voice.

"Doctor Chakwas. Not you, too." Shepard's heart sank. Was she going to run into Alliance personnel every time she turned around? Exactly how many of them had defected?

"I was hoping Joker would remember to send you down here," Chakwas said. Shepard noticed she was avoiding the unspoken question, "Why Cerberus?"

"Hop up on the table." Chakwas pulled a paper cover down over the table and patted it. Shepard thought about again pointing out how exhausted she was, but it didn't seem to be working.

"Joker said he had something for me," she said, trying to climb on the table without making it look too hard.

"Mine, first." Chakwas approached her with a tray of needles.

"What's this for?"

"You didn't have enough time for all your muscles to finish developing. You'll need these every three days to help speed things up." She jabbed a needle into Shepard's upper arm, icy cold eating into Shepard's veins.

"Is that really necessary?" Shep asked. Chakwas readied the second syringe and got Shepard's other arm.

"Only if you want to be able to fight, and shoot. You know, all those 'staying alive' things soldiers like to do. On your belly."

Shepard laid down on her stomach, waiting while the doctor poked her in what seemed like every major muscle group.

"This is inconvenient," she remarked.

"So is dying." Chakwas finished with her ministrations and tossed all the needles into a waste container. "Do you want to see what Joker had me pick up for you?"

"Sure, why not?" Shepard slowly slid herself off the table. The shots had started cold, but had turned first warm and then hot. Now, fire burned through every part of her, leaving behind muscles that ached worse than before.

_Well, if it helps me hold my rifle sooner…._

"Under here." Chakwas kicked a footlocker that was under the metal table. Shepard crouched with difficulty and fumbled the clasps open.

"Oh, he didn't," she breathed. Inside the footlocker was a full set of N7 armor. It didn't have the logo on the breast, but it was black and it was Alliance and it had the red stripe down the outside of the right arm. She wouldn't have to dress as though she was actually a part of the terrorist organization, Cerberus.

"He did." Chakwas's tone was smug.

"What was your part in this, Doctor?"

"Oh, I just picked it up. No idea how he did it, but he had it sent with some medical supplies. I had to yell at two Cerberus goons about keeping things sterile, or they would have opened the crate. I'm not sure they'd be pleased that Joker got it for you."

"I'll make sure not to mention it," Shep promised. Her hand grazed the chest plate of her armor, still in the footlocker. How was she going to get it to her cabin?

"If you like, Commander, you can leave it here until you need it. A bit heavy to be dragging everywhere with no muscle." Chakwas smiled.

Shepard closed the footlocker, but she was loathe to let the armor out of her sight.

"I'll keep an eye on it, Commander. Meanwhile, you need food and sleep. Doctor's orders. I've sent the mess hall a special menu for you. You'll need to eat everything they give you until further notice. Go on, now."

_Food. Sleep. No, food, dossier, then sleep._ Shepard wondered how long she'd been up, and how much sleep she would get before Omega. She should have asked Joker when they'd arrive.

_Doesn't matter now._ No, it didn't. If it was really important, she could ask either Chambers or EDI after she'd eaten. Her stomach grumbled again, and Shepard shuffled a little faster toward the mess.

#

Back in her cabin, Shepard collapsed on her bed. Doctor Chakwas's food recommendations were ridiculous. Shep could barely move. Her stomach was accepting the heavy dose of food, though, so she couldn't really complain. Hopefully in a couple of days, she could start hitting the gym, and put all those extra calories to good use. She would have to get up soon to read Solus's dossier.

_Not sleeping yet. Just resting my eyes._

_"Commander?" _Joker called through the intercom.

"What?" Shepard growled. She had just gotten here; couldn't she have five minutes?

_"We're docking at Omega, ma'am."_

Shepard sat up, pulling up the time on her omni-tool.

_Shit._ She had been sleeping. Well, if her body was going to be that insistent, it must have really needed it.

_Dossier. Fuck._

"EDI, you have access to my files, correct?"

_"Of course, Commander Shepard."_

"Summarize the dossier on Dr. Mordin Solus," Shep said. EDI began reeling off facts, starting with a possible connection to the salarian Special Task Group, and ending with some kind of plague that was currently on Omega; Solus was trying to cure it.

"Thank you, EDI. Please inform Lawson and Taylor we debark in five minutes."

Shepard climbed out of bed and stretched.

_Oh, that's nice._ After one dose of the shots- not to mention a farmer's breakfast and a good sleep- Shepard felt stronger than before. She headed for the elevator. She would have to grab her armor from Dr. Chakwas, and then go convince this salarian doctor, formerly special forces, to join up. While trying to avoid a plague on the biggest crime hub in the galaxy.

_Just another normal day._


	7. Omega

Chapter Seven

Omega

_Omega is a shithole._ Shep's lip curled slightly as she stepped off the _Normandy._ This was not her first visit to Omega, but each time she hoped it would be the last. Neon lights couldn't make the trash littering the walkways more appealing, the streets were always bustling with mercenaries and two-bit thieves, and she knew from experience that if she left the "nicer" areas, she would have to step over bodies.

Glancing at her ground team, Shepard saw that Miranda Lawson had a similar opinion about the festering wound of a station. Jacob Taylor wouldn't meet her eyes; perhaps he had a different view.

At the exit from the docking area, a batarian waited, stepping into their path when they got close. All four of his eyes glared at Shepard.

"You need to go to club Afterlife," he said.

"We're not tourists," Shep replied.

"Aria T'Loak runs this station. You will speak to her before you go anywhere else." As he spoke, several more armed men stepped into the hallway, a mix of batarians, humans, and spike-crested turians that would have seemed unusual on any civilized world. They did not threaten; Shep got the message.

"Of course we'd want to see the lady in charge. I'm sure she's dying to help us with our business." Shepard stepped around the batarian. Lawson and Taylor followed close behind, and T'Loak's men seemed to amble the same direction, hands near their weapons.

_Nice welcome wagon._

The batarian who had spoken to her pushed in front of her, shoving hard with his shoulder. Shep ground her teeth, but let it go. Omega was not a place for petty squabbles if you wanted to leave it again. As she followed him through the narrow streets, lit with orange and red, she noticed how empty the pathways were. Normally, you couldn't walk two feet here without seeing a potential blood feud between the mercenary gangs erupt. They walked straight though the sparse crowds, heading toward the center of the station. The cultural center, if not the geographic one. The seat of T'Loak's power.

People of various species stood in lines at the club entrance. An elcor bouncer built like a quadrupedal tank stood guard, keeping the riff-raff from entering uninvited.

_Although how you tell the riff-raff from the other people on Omega is a mystery to me._

With her guard, Shepard walked past the elcor, who nodded at the batarian leading her.

Inside was Omega squared. Bodies writhed against each other to a thudding that Shep didn't recognize as music. People who weren't dancing shoved each other trying to walk. Everywhere, asari strippers danced and teased while people said goodbye to inhibition and self-control. Shepard couldn't stand clubs.

The batarian led them to a small staircase leading up to a dais, where Aria T'Loak could sit or stand and watch over her empire below.

"Is this the help desk?" Shepard asked. T'Loak did not turn around, but on some secret signal, her guards stepped forward with weapons drawn, one of them a turian holding a scanner. Shepard drew her weapon. Lawson and Taylor braced to start using their biotic powers, and all the guards tensed.

"You wanna tell me what you're doing with that thing, Stretch?" Shepard asked.

The turian sneered. "You want to talk to Aria, you get scanned."

"Who says I wanted to talk to Aria?"

Aria turned her head slightly, and her voice carried.

"A formality, Commander Shepard. You'll keep your weapons, and I won't have to have you thrown out of an airlock."

Shepard holstered her weapon and let the turian scan her.

"She's good, Aria," he said, stepping aside to let Shepard ascend the last few stairs. Shepard signaled for her team to stay back and approached Aria T'Loak.

"We were told to come see you. I guess you run Omega?" Shep said.

Aria turned from the railing, and Shepard was impressed. She couldn't begin to guess asari ages, but Aria was certainly no maiden yet had kept her beauty remarkably well.

"Commander Shepard," Aria chuckled, "I _am_ Omega. I am the queen of this little empire, and as a dead visiting Spectre, you should expect you'd have to come pay your respects." Aria sat on a huge curved couch, gesturing that Shepard could do the same.

"If you're calling it an empire, you should go with 'empress' rather than 'queen.'" Shepard sat down, trying not to be seduced by the comfort of the couch. Aria's smile was reminiscent of a predator's, and it would not be healthy to drop your guard around her.

"I'll consider that. Now, what's a dead Alliance soldier-turned-Spectre want with my Omega?"

"Nothing you'll miss, I'm sure. We're looking for a salarian, a Dr. Solus," Shepard explained.

"Oh, Mordin? I might miss him. He's as likely to heal you as he is to shoot you. Still, as long as he goes willingly, I won't stop him leaving. Of course, I don't allow kidnapping on my station."

_I'll bet._

"Any idea where I can find him?" Shep had to stop herself from tapping her foot in impatience. The music beat into her head and the criminals were much too brazen.

"Of course. He's down in the quarantine zone, being altruistic with plague victims. Such a strange man. You can take a shuttle."

"Has the plague really taken out so many mercs here?" Shepard asked.

"Why, whatever do you mean? And are you really asking for a second favor? You should know I don't give out freebies."

"The mercenaries. They're usually packed shoulder to shoulder and stabbing each other in the street. Now, the place looks deserted. It's not the plague?"

"Oh, no." Aria laughed sweetly, her voice complementing her namesake. "The mercenaries have business to which they are attending."

Shepard waited.

"Well, since you're such a good listener." Aria uncrossed her legs and tucked her feet back. "They're banding together, believe it or not. Some turian vigilante calling himself Archangel has gotten everyone angry enough to decide to… convince him to be less trouble. He should be dead before the day is out; they've had him pinned down for days, already."

"Archangel," Shepard repeated.

EDI's voice spoke up in Shepard's ear, _"Commander Shepard, 'Archangel' is one of the dossiers you were given for recruitment. Radio chatter indicates that he will be unavailable later."_

"Thank you for your time, Aria." Shepard rose and walked back to her crew at the bottom of the stairs.

"Do come back and see me, Commander. You owe me two favors, now," Aria sang.

Shepard didn't stop moving or look back until she was out of earshot of T'Loak and her men. Not that there really would be such a distance on Omega. Shepard would be surprised if a vorcha could sneeze on this station without Aria knowing about it immediately.

"If we want Archangel, we need to get him now." Shepard expected her crew to be right on her heels, and she wasn't disappointed.

"What's our move, Commander?" Taylor asked.

"EDI?" Shepard said.

"_The mercenary groups are recruiting more people for the assault on Archangel's base," _EDI advised. _"There is a recruitment station at your current location, twenty yards north."_

"So we join up?" Lawson asked.

"We can't just ask them to hand him over." Shepard shrugged, trying to work a knot out of her shoulders. While the N7 armor was leagues ahead of Cerberus armor on comfort, it was still damn heavy and she was nowhere near fully recovered. She eyed the recruiting station EDI had mentioned, and marched over to the batarian on duty.

"You recruiting?" she asked.

"Maybe. Get paid after the job's done, unless you die. Then your pay's forfeit. You in?"

"All three of us," Shepard said.

"Go to the shuttles, then. You'd better hurry; they're almost ready to go. No pay if you don't show up."

Shepard nodded and turned, nearly running into a kid who was eager to get in.

"I'm here to sign up, too." The kid was nearly bouncing, his fingers tapping at the butt of his gun.

"How old are you?" Shepard asked.

"None of your business. I'm old enough to fight."

"Commander," Lawson said. "We're on a schedule, here."

Shepard hesitated. Archangel was dangerous enough to the mercenary groups to inspire them all to cooperate. Not to mention, she might have to shoot through quite a crowd of them just to find him. And this kid looked like he was barely old enough to shave.

"Is that your gun?" Shepard asked. When his eyes dropped, she snaked his gun out of its holster.

"Hey, that's mine! I spent fifty credits on it this morning," the kid protested.

Shepard smashed the gun into one of the metal walls. The cheap construction gave way, sending little pieces flying.

"And that's why you spend more than fifty creds on a gun." Shepard handed the remains of the gun back as the batarian recruiter laughed. Shepard knew he'd be laughing harder if the kid had signed up and gotten killed.

"Let's hit the shuttle and get to work," Shep told her crew.

#

The shuttle sped them into the depths of Omega. When they got out, they found mercenaries milling aimlessly. Shepard identified armor from the Blue Suns, Blood Pack, Eclipse. The people wearing those armors seemed to stay a hell of a ways back from where they were sending the freelancers.

"You new? Get to the bridge. Archangel's on the other side of it. You need to distract him while the infiltration team goes in." The Blue Suns mercenary pointed them in the direction of the bridge, and Shepard and crew met up with the other freelancers waiting there.

"It's a killing canyon," Taylor muttered.

It was. A bridge hung over a chasm of the station's guts, and beyond it was the base of the vigilante Archangel. Shepard could occasionally see a flash of blue armor through his barricades, and knew that the turian was watching carefully, waiting for people to get in range. There was no way across the bridge that wouldn't leave them exposed, a fact to which the numerous bodies already on the bridge testified.

A mercenary started shouting instructions into the radio; they were almost ready to move. Shepard changed the channel so she could speak to her crew.

"Okay, team, we're here for one thing, and that's Archangel. Anyone gunning for him doesn't get to leave. Since there are dozens of mercs going after the one guy, I don't think we need to worry about niceties like not back-shooting the bad guys. Lawson, keep on my left, Taylor, my right. You're both biotics, so I don't expect any shots to make it through to us. Especially from Archangel; he won't know we're on his side yet."

"Got it, Commander," Lawson said.

The other mercenaries started their assault, and Shepard moved, slowing her pace so that she and her crew could drop behind the others. Most of the mercs, regular and freelancer, had stayed back, so this was a small assault, only a dozen or so men.

_Three apiece, if Archangel pulls his weight and doesn't shoot us._

As if she'd given the order, Archangel began firing on the vanguard of the attack. Two dropped in quick succession.

_A rifleman. Good aim. We can use him._ Shepard raised her gun, Lawson and Taylor following suit, and began firing on the mercenaries. A few mercs realized they were taking fire from behind and managed to turn before they were dropped; none of them returned fire.

An admiring whistle came through Shepard's comm channel. "Nice work, Commander." Lawson and Taylor had heard it, too; Taylor tilted his head at Shepard.

"You know Archangel?"

"I know a lot of people," Shepard said, not wanting to admit she couldn't place the voice. "Keep moving. The next group will be along soon enough. Full sweeps, people. We don't need anyone popping out of cover when we least expect it. Taylor, watch our six."

The trio swept through the lower level of Archangel's base. Occasionally, he would call out a direction for them to move to avoid triggering a mine. Twice, Shepard's omni-tool alerted her without his help. After a few minutes, they made it upstairs.

The turian Archangel sat casually across a chair, several monitors behind him showing that his enemies had temporarily fallen back.

"You Archangel?" Shepard demanded.

"Well, I suppose some people are calling me that." He removed his helmet, letting it drop. "Although, some people know me by my given name." Familiar mandibles flared under familiar blue face-paint.

"Garrus, what are you- How did-" Shepard couldn't find the ends to any of her sentences.

"Now what kind of greeting is that for an old friend?" he asked.

"Taylor, Lawson. Secure the downstairs against the next wave."

"Aye-aye," Lawson said. Shepard heard the touch of sarcasm and decided to ignore it for now. She waited until they were gone, then stepped forward to hug Garrus. He crushed her to his chest, letting go only reluctantly.

"Turian bear-hugs," Shep muttered.

"Not my fault you're so fragile," Garrus returned.

"I haven't seen you in ages." Shep wondered at that; she didn't remember even two years of distance, but it felt like decades since she'd seen her friend last.

"Everyone said you were dead. Are… are you real?" Garrus asked, swaying slightly.

"Are you drunk?"

"I've been drunk more or less for the past two years, Shep."

"You'd better sober up fast. I didn't hunt you down just to leave your spiky corpse here."

"Ha! I shoot better drunk than you shoot sober."

"Is that a fact?" Shep asked.

"It is. But if you don't believe me, maybe we could make it interesting."

"Commander," Lawson's voice came through Shep's helmet. "We've got incoming."

"Got it, Lawson. Well, Garrus, what did you have in mind for 'interesting?'" Shepard looked up at him, challenging him.

"Well, if I can shoot better than you, we'll make it out of here alive," he said.

"That doesn't leave much for me to win, does it?"

"But see, you'll get to tell me, 'I told you so,' before we're killed, if I can't."

"Give me your extra sniper rifle," Shepard said. He handed it over, and they settled down against the barricades to rain death upon their approaching enemies.

"Only headshots count," Shepard said.

"You've forgotten who you're dealing with. I'll only count mine when I hit them in the eye."


	8. Archangel

Chapter Eight

Archangel

_Spirits, she's beautiful, _Garrus thought, watching his old commander line up headshot after headshot. She had taken off her helmet, as she always did when using a sniper rifle, and her red curls hung free, though not as long as he had last seen them.

_Well, of course. Come back from the dead, get a haircut._

Garrus had missed her. He had missed this, kneeling shoulder to shoulder with her, knowing instinctively which target she would shoot for next, knowing which one was his. He tried to concentrate on the mercenary army, but his eyes kept being drawn to her.

_Back from the dead,_ he mused. Almost, he couldn't believe it, but he tried to squash those doubts. She was here, wasn't she? Why shouldn't he be happy about it? Besides, if he was imagining her, why the haircut? He didn't care about hair. Why the fresh scars on her face? Why would she be trembling, his beautiful commander who never faltered?

_Wait, why is she trembling?_

"Shepard, are you all right? You're shaking."

"Fine," she muttered, keeping her eyes on the bloody battleground beneath them. "Side effect of horrible death. You're falling behind, you know, I'm up by three kills."

Garrus took a moment to even things up. He missed the eye on his third kill, and shot another two. Shepard was still lining up her first shot since she'd spoken.

_I wouldn't imagine my Shep with any weakness. However this has happened, it's real._ And that was suddenly a greater concern. Previously, she was dead. Now, she was both alive and injured. And trying to clear a path through three mercenary gangs, just to save him.

_If I get her killed this time-_

Garrus shook his head. No. It was unthinkable. He tore his attention away from her and started firing in earnest. He didn't bother spending time to line up a perfect shot in the eye. He took any kill-shot the moment he could. If he wanted her to leave here alive, he had to stop watching her, and stop worrying about a bet. Within a minute, they had cleared the battlefield, Lawson and Taylor defending from below, and Shep and himself firing from above.

"You said you'd only count 'em if you got 'em in the eye, Garrus. You just threw away twelve points." Shepard shook her head, smiling crookedly. "Don't think you can throw the contest just 'cause I'm a little slow."

"That was just the first wave. There'll be more. I know they have a gunship; it should be broken, but it might not be. And they have at least one heavy mech I haven't destroyed yet." Garrus was cold. If he told her crew to take her away, would they be able to get her out? Shepard would hate him for it, but this time she would be alive, and he would be dead. Tolerable.

"I think we wait for a crack in their defenses, then take our chances." Shepard tossed her hair again.

_Take our chances? With you, Shep? Never._

"We'll find a hole in their assault, and your crew will get you out," he said. He wasn't taking any chances that she might end up leaving him that way again.

"Are you kidding me, Garrus? I came here for you. We're all leaving."

"Down!" he shouted, dragging Shep further into cover. Down below, the heavy mech had been brought out and was firing wildly in every direction.

"Lawson, Taylor. Get up here and out of range," Shep yelled into her omni-tool. "Garrus, if you don't get off me before they get here, you're going to be one sorry turian."

Garrus carefully moved, keeping his own body between her and the mech's spastic shots.

"Don't undermine me in front of them, either, big guy," Shep said, crawling back into position so she could fire.

Garrus slid to the half-wall and stayed almost under cover. If the mech actually aimed, it would hit him, and not her. He put shot after shot into its head, trying desperately to bring it down quickly so he could continue to protect her.

Lawson and Taylor arrived, positioning themselves on either side.

"Jacob?" Lawson asked. Lawson and Taylor stood up slightly and used their biotic powers to crush the mech from either side. It crumpled from nothing and blue light, and fell over. Garrus was impressed; they'd obviously practiced the maneuver.

"Nice work," Shep grunted.

"There will be more," Garrus said again. "You three should go while you can. Before the next wave."

"One more word from you, and I'll have you up on charges, Vakarian. Insubordination." Shep glared, only half-serious, but what could Garrus do? Shepard wasn't a woman who could be forced to do anything. If she wanted to stay here and get killed again, she would.

_Just have to make sure she doesn't get killed, then._

Garrus moved to his computer station, not bothering to keep low.

"I can get all of their channels, I think," he said. He played with the controls, trying to find out when they were coming, where they were coming, how to keep Shep safe against them.

"Shit," he swore. "They're in the tunnels. We'll have to split the group."

"Lawson, you stay here. Keep him alive. Taylor, with me." Shep moved quickly, not waiting to see if her commands would be followed.

"Wait," Garrus said. Shepard paused, watching him.

_Okay, Vakarian. Think of a reason. Something plausible._

"We have the high ground here. Good for snipers. The biotics will be more useful down below." Garrus knew she would agree; they didn't have time to argue. She nodded at her people. Lawson and Taylor took off at a jog, and Garrus reeled off the directions into their helmets. First level, under the stairs, down the hall, and plenty of places they could bottleneck the mercs. And Shepard stayed safe here, with him.

Shepard returned to cover, staring at him. Garrus avoided her gaze, standing by the computers. He was well away from the half-walls, and would have plenty of time to get down when the mercenaries swarmed the first level again.

"Garrus." Her voice was quiet, but firm. "If you're going to be any use to me on this mission, you can't do this. You can't override my orders. And you can't try to keep me out of battle. I need a soldier on the field, not a friend. If you can't fight without doing those things, it would be best if we parted ways once we're out of here. I can drop you off wherever you like."

"Shepard, I-"

Garrus was interrupted by an all-too-familiar sound.

_That damn gunship._ He turned to watch the flying tank rise over the half-walls. It had him in his sights.

If he ducked out of the way, it would have her.

It fired, and Garrus held his ground. Somewhere behind him, he could vaguely hear Shepard yelling for him to drop, for her crew to hurry their asses up and get back here. In front of him, he saw the missile grow closer, bringing his death with it. He didn't feel it when it hit.

Blue.

Confusion.

Garrus lay immobile, unsure of exactly how much damage he had taken. He had an impression of his commander flying around the room, diving in and out of cover and firing whenever she could. He tried to tell her to go. It wasn't here for her; if she left, it would just confirm his death and be done. He couldn't produce a sound, and the translator wouldn't do thoughts, only actual speech. He tried to blink the dark blue blood out of his eyes, so he would know whether he was still seeing anything real.

After a few minutes, he thought the others had rejoined them, and he heard an explosion, a big one. Or rather, he felt it; he likely wouldn't be hearing anything again in the few minutes he had left.

Shepard's face came into view as she knelt above him, a blue Shep with purple-blue hair.

_Good._ She had made it, even if he hadn't. Her mouth was moving at him; he couldn't hear the words. She was frantic, though. She was always frantic, no matter which crew member was down.

Garrus felt his consciousness fading, his eyes closing. His hand scrabbled for his rifle; he wanted to die with his hands on his rifle. He didn't find it.

_Tell her you love her. Last chance, tell her you love her and you'll wait for her on the other side._

Garrus's mouth worked, but he said nothing.


	9. Reunion

Chapter Nine

Reunion

Garrus woke up wishing he hadn't. The sick blue thudding in his head was enough for him to think death might have been preferable.

_Might have been? I hardly think that's up for debate._

His hands went up to his face, feeling the metal-and-mesh contraption designed to keep what was left of that side on.

_Well, at least now I know the left side's my good side._

Garrus sat up, his eyes still closed. He heard soft footsteps rushing towards him.

"Easy, Vakarian, you needn't get up quite yet."

Garrus opened his eyes, looking at Dr. Chakwas, mandibles slack with shock.

_What's she doing here? She was on the _Normandy _when it-_

Garrus took in the rest of the room as things finally started to click into place.

This _was_ the infirmary on the _Normandy. _That was Dr. Chakwas, and before he had taken a missile to the face, he had spoken with Shepard again.

Clearly, he was dead.

Since he was dead, then, it didn't make any sense to stay in the infirmary. He struggled to his feet, brushed Chakwas aside and started heading for the gym. This was his death-fantasy, so Shep would be there. Hopefully, a little broken up about his injury. He'd had no idea the afterlife was anything like this, but he was going to see Shep, now.

"Mr. Vakarian! Up so soon. I'm Kelly Chambers, and if you need anything at all-"

Garrus passed her without slowing. He didn't know her, and he didn't care. The elevator took him to the gym level, slowly.

_Spirits, I couldn't have imagined a faster one?_

Once on the right level, he staggered in the direction of the gym. He wondered why he was in so much pain if he was already dead, then discarded the thought. He'd get over that soon enough, he was sure.

At the door to the gym, he paused, listening to her footfalls. She was on the treadmill. After Williams had been killed, it was the chin-up bars. Apparently, a dead turian only rated treadmill.

_But then, in the fantasy, I'm not dead. Or she doesn't know I am. Or-_ Garrus shook his head, then had to grab the wall quickly. Dead or not, head-shaking was a terrible idea. He hung on to the wall and waited for the pain-induced nausea to pass.

_She's never seen you weak, Vakarian. Don't let her see that now._

Garrus waited until he could straighten up fully before entering the room.

"Hey, stranger," he said.

Shepard had her back to him, and turned when he spoke. The movement caused her to plant a foot wrong, and for a horrible moment Garrus thought she'd go tumbling to the floor. He rushed to grab her, but she'd righted herself before he got there, pulling hard on the handrails.

_Of course, she still wouldn't need me to catch her._

"Garrus, you made it." Garrus decided that he would take a missile to the face every day, if she would just keep smiling at him like that, wearing her silly mechanic's coveralls instead of a uniform.

"So, what's the damage? They didn't give me a mirror."

"Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly. Just slap some face paint on it, no one'll be able to tell the difference."

Garrus felt an odd pressure in his chest.

_Why would she say that? I'm dead and this is my dream, dammit._ He tried to cover his hurt by chuckling at her and groaned instead.

"Don't make me laugh, Shep. My face is barely holding together as it is."

"Turnabout, big guy. Remember how you made me laugh when my face was busted to shit?"

"Hey, that was Chakwas, not me."

"It was only funny because you got so flustered."

Garrus pulled himself to his full, dignified height. "I don't get 'flustered.' Anyway, some ladies find facial scarring very attractive… a shame most of those ladies are krogan."

Shep laughed a little, leaning against the treadmill railing. Garrus had already learned not to laugh until his face healed up. After a moment, Shep's face darkened.

"I still wish I knew how they got to her, though."

_They? Her? You'd think my own imagination could fill me in._

"No idea what you're talking about, Shep." Shep looked at him blankly for a moment.

"Oh, I forgot…." Her hand went up to her forehead. "I forgot you missed all that. The ship is Cerberus-built. They got Joker and Chakwas somehow, I just… I wish I knew what the leverage was."

"Cerberus? The terrorists? I should ask how they got you, then. And why you'd bring a turian to them. You're working with them, Shep?"

Shepard glared at him, then rolled her eyes up to the ceiling, then back to him.

"I don't-" he started, but Shep hissed at him slightly. She was trying to tell him something, he knew that. It was so hard to think, when his face was still full of pain and blue.

Shep cleared her throat at him; he had been wandering off again. As he stared at her, willing himself to understand, she deliberately wiggled her ears slightly. For a moment, Garrus was entranced.

_I didn't know she could do that._

When Shepard sighed in exasperation, it finally clicked for Garrus. They were listening. He nodded slowly to show he understood, and was gratified when she relaxed.

"Yes, so once we get to the Citadel, I can explain the whole Cerberus situation to them. I'm sure they'll be okay with it." Shep kept looking at him, until he nodded once more.

_Of course, she's a prisoner. We'll be defecting back to her people as soon as we can get to them._

That was a relief, anyway. Thinking she had willingly joined an organization that would be happy to see him dead, along with any other non-humans, was brutal.

_Why did I think that? I wouldn't imagine that, would I? And I certainly would have imagined a more loving reunion than taking a missile to the face and then being called ugly. By my Shep._

There was a sinking coldness working its way through Garrus's insides.

"Shepard… how exactly did they get you here?" he asked.

"Well, the story is that I died. They say they rebuilt me, just like the damn ship." Shep rolled her eyes.

"And you don't believe that?"

"Would you?"

_I think I'm beginning to. Out of all the explanations, it actually makes the most sense._

"I'm not sure," he said instead.

"You wanna find out?" she asked. Her crooked smile was back, invitation and challenge.

"What were you thinking?"

"I'm thinking my old turian friend's a better hacker than I am… and Cerberus keeps excellent records."

#

Garrus stood frozen in the doorway. He had followed her all the way up to her cabin, and couldn't make himself step inside over the threshold.

_This is her bedroom. This is Commander Shepard's bedroom, and she's invited me into it. I can see her bed from here. Maybe I have died._

"Garrus, what are you staring at?" Shep waved him in impatiently.

Garrus tried to rally.

"The mess," he said. "This is truly appalling. Have you been here the whole two years?"

Shepard looked around. The armor had been dumped on the floor, some tablet books were lying around. Maybe some clothes.

"About two days, I think," she answered.

"How you ever survived in the Alliance is beyond me."

Shepard huffed a little. "Don't be such a baby. It's just some underwear and stuff."

_Vakarian, you will not think about Commander Shepard's underwear._

Trying to distract himself, Garrus slid into the chair at her computer desk. "So, what was it you wanted me to find?"

Shepard leaned over his shoulder, pointing to the screen. Her chest pressed against his back, and he had to remind himself again not to think of her underwear. At all. In any context.

"These files," she said, her breath warm and sweet against the good side of his face. "These are from the facility I was supposedly made in, about two months after the attack. I'm assuming we'll see me there, kidnapped and brainwashed."

Garrus went to work, grateful when she moved away so he could think again. He could see what she had already tried; not bad. But he was better. He probed for weak spots, trying to find a way around the blocks.

"This would be easier if it wasn't coded in your human gibberish," he muttered.

"I don't think Cerberus planned their systems for ease of use by rogue turians."

"Hmm… I'm not sure whether-"

The door opened behind them, and they both turned to it.

"Operative Lawson. I didn't know you could override the locks on my door." Behind her back, Shepard pointed to Garrus.

_Looks like I'll be fixing up her security here, too._

"Commander Shepard," Lawson said. "EDI told me you were having some trouble getting into the systems. Anything I can help you with?"

"My own damn files, Lawson," Shep growled.

"Of course, Commander. EDI, please make sure the Commander can access any information about the Lazarus project that she desires."

"Yes, Operative Lawson," EDI said.

"If you don't need anything else, I'll be going." Lawson turned, letting her long curtain of dark hair whirl behind her before stepping into the elevator.

"I don't like her," Garrus said.

"Join the club." Shepard leaned back over him to type into the keyboard. He tried to give her room, but she was still touching him, distracting him.

_Does she really have no idea what she's doing?_

_She finds you disgusting, Vakarian. She probably barely knows you're even there._ Garrus wanted to argue, but there was never any point in arguing with his father's voice. The old man was always, always right.

"It's running," Shep said. A video had opened up, showing an eagle's eye view of some kind of lab. Personnel in lab coats with Cerberus markings rushed around. In the center of the room was a vat of colorless fluid.

"This is supposed to be me, I don't see me," Shepard complained. "Is it even real, or is it a movie?"

Garrus touched the visor he always wore, letting it analyze the vid. "If it's fake, I can't tell. It's very good."

"I don't see why this was even recorded, there's nothing-" Shepard's voice cut off, as the video suddenly became much more interesting. Garrus leaned forward as the lab crew on the film made way for people with large bio-hazard bags. The crew carefully opened them up and dumped the contents into the tank. From one bag, a vague skeletal structure covered in strings of charred flesh emerged. It was unceremoniously dumped into the tank, then gloved attendants rearranged it, shifting it into a normal reclining position. Or, what would have been a normal position, if it wasn't mostly bones, meat and organs.

"Skip ahead," Shep whispered.

Garrus set the video to play faster, and he watched, fascinated, as they poked and prodded, fed and encouraged the mass of… leftovers to grow.

"Shepard, look," he said. "Look at the muscle they're building; you're double-reinforced-" He turned to look at her, and was surprised to find she had backed up almost to the opposite wall. Her upper lip curled and uncurled unconsciously, like a varren who has smelled something intolerable.

"Shepard?" Garrus turned back to the video.

_Shit, this is her. She's seeing her body-_ Panicking now, Garrus stopped the video, shutting it down and putting a lock on it so she wouldn't be able to open it again. He crossed the room, almost reached to hold her, then thought better of it.

"Shepard? Shepard, talk to me." He ducked down, trying to keep his face in her sightline.

"They weren't lying."

Garrus didn't know what to do. A normal human would want a hug; he knew that Shep would barely tolerate one under the best of circumstances.

"Garrus, I died." Her eyes darted around the room, looking for somewhere to settle. They found the open shutters which allowed a brilliant display of the cosmos through the window.

"EDI, close those damn shutters and never open them again!" The shutters slammed shut.

_Shit, she's panicking. Help her._ He grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly, forcing her to look at him.

"Fine, Shep. You died. Are you going to let that stop you?"

That had the desired effect. Her eyes narrowed and she slapped his hands away.

"You're out of line, soldier. Meet me in the sparring room in ten."

_Great. In my condition, she'll finish me off._ Garrus straightened, nodded at her, and left the room.


	10. Skirmish

Chapter Ten

Skirmish

As soon as she locked the door behind him, Shep was in the bathroom again, once more puking up nothing.

_When did I eat?_ Shepard tried to remember. She had been trying to get into the files for a while when Garrus was out… before that, Omega… and before that, she had fallen asleep for God knew how long.

_If I'm going to keep forgetting, I'll have to set an alarm._ She leaned back, sitting up against the bathroom wall. No time to eat now; she had told Garrus ten minutes. Besides that, there was the whole… anti-snuff vid that she had watched? Her own dead body, anyway.

Shepard's body tried to start shaking again and she willed it to stop, then used the wall as leverage to force herself to her feet. She'd had a firefight, then spent hours on the treadmill hoping Garrus would pull through. Now she was going to go spar a turian, and Dr. Chakwas was going to kill her, probably, for wrecking her musculature before it could grow properly.

_Fuck it._ Fuck it, indeed. She was the Shepard, dammit.

#

Garrus was waiting in the sparring room. He'd already stripped to bare-chested and barefoot; good. Shep knew he was injured, but she still expected him to try. Shepard didn't have anything to spar in, so she undid one button at each side of the coveralls. They'd be loose enough to move in without falling off her.

"Chakwas stopped me on the way down here," Garrus said. Shepard raised an eyebrow. "She told me that if I undid the work she's done on you, she'd 'skin me alive.' You're a very violent people, Shep."

"Shut up and try to hit me."

"_Try_ to hit you? From what I've seen you can barely stay on your feet, and Chakwas's warning only confirmed that. You're going down, human."

Good. This was good. The old banter, the old respect. Anything but the sympathy she had seen on his face after the vid. Shepard crouched slightly, taking a pose. Garrus followed suit.

"You think you got me?" she asked.

"I think I'll destroy you, Commander." Shepard lunged at him, and he easily stepped aside, using her own momentum to push her down. Shep landed hard, crawling to her feet again.

"I was going to tell you to watch my face, but it looks like that won't be necessary, Shep."

Shepard knew he was right, but refused to concede it. Until her body healed, she couldn't even keep up with one injured, drunk turian. She set a new goal of hitting him once during this fight.

Shepard attacked again, and he swatted her hands away, then hit her in the head.

With an open hand.

"Garrus," she growled from the floor, "if you don't hit me for real, we are going to have a problem."

"Shepard, you need time to build the muscle. Chakwas suggested two weeks, maybe three. Not to mention half my face is missing. I'm supposed to be taking it easy, too, you know."

Shepard replied while charging again, speaking between strikes.

"How… rebuild… if I can't… work them?"

"Enough," Garrus roared. He captured her fist after a wild strike and spun her around, holding her back against his chest.

"Shepard, this is painful and you haven't touched me yet. Why not start slow?"

Shep tried to kick him, and he sank to the floor, dragging her to her knees with him.

_Stupid… how dare!_ Shepard struggled, but she had always known not to let the big turian close; she would never break his grip.

And she was not at her best now.

"Shepard, please. If you take it slow, you'll get your strength and skill back eventually. I'll spar with you, but you're just hurting yourself like this."

"They need me now."

"You won't do anyone any good if you kill yourself training."

Abruptly, Shepard stopped struggling, going limp.

"Don't tell anyone, okay?" she asked dully.

"Never," he promised.

"Then let me up. My stances are sloppy and I've forgotten how to move my hands. Show me."

"You don't think a break-"

"I can take a break when I've learned something, Vakarian. I have no muscle memory. It's like-"

Shepard stopped herself. _It's like being back on Mindoir,_ she had almost said. She had been a child, and helpless, and utterly unable to defend herself. She ground her teeth, having to admit to such helplessness again. She was grateful that Garrus didn't push her on it, instead just getting up and gently repositioning her limbs.

"First of all, Shep, that's not even your dominant foot. I've fought you enough to know. You're a lefty. Like this," he demonstrated.

#

Garrus tried to hang it up for the day an hour later; Shepard, dripping with sweat, tried to argue.

"I'm… good. One… more round."

"You said that three rounds ago." _What kind of masochist does this to herself?_

"One… more," she insisted.

Garrus sighed. She was determined, he'd give her that. But as she'd pointed out, they needed her. And as he'd pointed out, they needed her alive and functioning.

"Tell you what, Shep. Come at me once more. If you can hit me, we'll keep going as long as you like."

Shepard grinned. Garrus knew she thought she'd improved, and she had. Her mind knew what to do, but her brand-new muscles didn't. It was mostly drill, drill, drill to regain what she'd lost.

_And I should be in bed, myself. With the curtains drawn. And someone should bring me broth._

_Pout some more, Vakarian._ That was the thing with Shep, though. If you weren't at her level, she would drag you up to it.

"You ready for me, Garrus?"

He wasn't going to be able to do this easy. She'd contest anything ambiguous. He didn't crouch, only stayed standing straight up, and gestured for her to attack.

Shepard charged- _still clumsy-_ and swung. She was much better than before, but still not good enough. Garrus caught her chest, letting her own momentum and gravity bring her down onto her back. He didn't use any extra force, but he still wasn't happy with how hard she hit her head.

_Before, she would have curled up to protect her skull. Lucky it's good and thick._

"Let me up," Shep grumbled.

"I'll let you up when you concede the fight." His hand stayed on her chest, keeping her down without much effort. Shep struggled, but couldn't move it.

_Drunk, injured, depressed, and still more than a match for you. This is awful._

Shepard finally realized she wasn't going anywhere through force; she wasn't strong enough to displace the hand from her chest.

"So, are you just pinning me, or is this some kind of turian foreplay?"

Garrus reared back, unable to stop the tips of his mandibles tucking in.

"Garrus, is that a turian blush?"

"Turians don't blush," he said, recovering. "And you're not getting up until you concede. We had a bet." _And you've tried everything you can, now. I hope._

"Fine. We're done for the day."

Garrus got up, letting her go, and reached a hand out to help her up. Shepard considered it for a moment before accepting.

_I know you don't like help, Shep, but you're so weak right now._

Shepard stretched, and Garrus tried not to notice that her… pants, he supposed, were slipping a little farther than she probably intended. He looked off to the side, reminding himself that she was clearly uninterested.

_She's made it painfully clear, I should think. "Ugly" was the exact word she used._

"Come get some food with me," she offered.

"I think I'm going to stay here. Maybe hit the treadmill for a while."

"No, you're not. You're injured." Shep stopped in the doorway, hands on her hips.

Garrus felt his jaw drop. _Is she serious? After she made me spar? And how long was _she_ on the treadmill today?_

"You're kidding me, right, Shep?"

"Absolutely not. I need you in top condition, which means rest when you need it."

Garrus felt himself sputtering. "But you- and then the fighting- and before that-"

"Yes, but you forget, Garrus, I'm your CO."

Garrus's mouth snapped shut. Not once had she pulled rank on him before she died. He drew himself to his full height once more, determined not to answer.

_If that's the way she wants it, that's the way she'll have it. I'll be a soldier to her and nothing more._

"Okay, Garrus, I'll make you a deal. I'll let you be in charge of all my martial arts training, but you have to at least pretend I have some authority over you around the rest of the crew."

And now Garrus was confused again; sometimes it seemed like two out of three conversations with this woman left him bewildered. Besides the utter perplexity of her, the adrenaline was also wearing off, leaving him to fully feel every injury he'd acquired in the last few days.

_I'm always going to feel off-balance with you, aren't I?_

"So, let me get this clear. I'm in charge completely. Duration, frequency, intensity of all our sparring matches. Correct?"

Shepard nodded.

"And in return, I pretend to be a good boy and listen to you on everything else, _if _someone might be listening."

"That's about the long and short of it," she agreed.

_You know there's a catch, Vakarian._

"All right." Garrus reached out his hand to shake on it. Shepard grabbed his hand quickly and shook before he could change his mind.

"Wait," he realized, "no treadmill, either, unless I say."

"Too late; you already shook."

"That's not fair!" Garrus pretended to be protesting, but he was pleased. Any concession from Shep was a big win, and she probably couldn't hurt herself too badly on a treadmill.

"What's not fair is I've had about one good meal in two years. Come to the mess with me, big guy."


	11. Inspection

Chapter Eleven

Inspection

Shepard ate quickly, leaving Garrus to finish his meal alone.

"Shouldn't eat so fast," he mumbled.

"I'm pretty sure I still have a ship to inspect, crew to meet. That sort of thing. Should have done it already." Shepard could feel the shirked responsibility pressing down on her, suffocating her until she took care of it. She'd start with Chambers, she decided, barely hearing Garrus's goodbye as she headed for the elevator.

"Commander Shepard," Chambers said as soon as she saw Shep. "I wanted to talk with you?" She ran a hand through her punky hair, clearly excited to finally catch Shepard.

"That's what I'm here for. What do you do around here, Chambers?"

"You can call me Kelly."

Shepard froze her with a stare. "I think I'll stick with Yeoman Chambers."

"Sure, Commander. Well, I've been assigned as your administrative assistant. I keep track of all your mail, monitor the crew, let you know if you have any appointments or if someone needs to make one."

_So, you read all my mail, keep track of all business between me and the crew, probably eavesdrop, as well._

"It seems your job could be done by a VI, Yeoman."

"Well, that's not all I do," Chambers said eagerly. "I'm also here to… keep an eye on people. I have a degree in psychology, and having me here to just listen, to know when someone's worn down, and needs a break. I can be extremely useful." Chambers smiled shyly at her, and Shepard wondered if part of the Yeoman's job was to keep her… happy.

_A headshrinker _and _a subordinate? Illusive Man's misjudged me._

"Anything else, Chambers?"

"Well… you have some mail waiting now, Commander. And I believe you still have to read over the dossiers that were forwarded to you."

"Fine," Shep said, walking away.

_I have to get used to all these Cerberus uniforms. I'm half-expecting them all to start shooting any second._

The ship seemed bigger than the first _Normandy. _ Shepard wasn't sure she'd be able to learn everyone's names. Everyone seemed as if they were specifically paid not to be hostile. Not that there was anything she could really put her finger on… just that most of the crew didn't seem to like that she was there; they all kept staring.

That changed when she got to engineering.

"Commander Shepard! Welcome to the bowels of the ship." The Scottish brogue issued from a wide, smiling face. "Kenneth Donnelly," he said, reaching out to shake her hand. "This is Gabby." He gestured to a brunette, thinner and a little taller than he was.

"Gabriella Daniels, actually," the other engineer corrected. She, too, seemed happy to shake Shepard's hand. Shep wondered if they were genuinely friendly, or if this was some game to lull her suspicions. Either way, it was hard not to return their seemingly-open friendliness with anything but the same.

"Anything you need down here?" she asked.

"Oh, we're fine. Never better," Donnelly said. "Beautiful ship. Although…."

"Kenneth, leave it," Daniels hissed. She turned to Shepard, blushing slightly. "We really are fine. It's only some maintenance stuff. We can keep ahead of it by running our calibrations daily, no big deal."

"Aye, but we could be running them just weekly," Donnelly contradicted.

"Just tell me what you need," Shep said.

"Well, if we had a new set of FBA couplings, we'd be able to get things running more smoothly. See, when they upgraded the _Normandy-"_

"Let me stop you right there, Donnelly; I've never worked on the ships. So, just couplings? You didn't make sure they installed them originally?"

"Oh, we weren't here originally. We were with the Alliance," Daniels said.

_More Alliance personnel? I may have to inform them of a leak when I get back to the Citadel._

"How'd you end up here?" Shep asked.

"Well, really, it was you," Donnelly said.

"Me? I wasn't even here." Shep shifted slightly, wondering what bullshit story they were going to try to spin her.

"After you disappeared, the Alliance changed their minds about everything you'd said about the Reapers. Called you delusional. I wasn't actually subtle about defending you."

"He sure wasn't," Daniels added. "Rather than wait for him to be court-martialed, we decided to accept Cerberus's offer when they contacted us. Not only did they intend to go after the Reapers, but they said we'd get a chance to work on the _Normandy,_ with you. It wasn't something we could resist."

"And Cerberus's past didn't throw you off?" Shep asked.

"We don't know much about it, except for this group. We're just happy to be a part of the team." Donnelly grinned at Shep, and Daniels smiled as well, if less enthusiastically. The Illusive Man may or may not have picked them deliberately to soften her, but either way, the pair seemed sincere.

"So, FBA couplings?" she confirmed.

"Yes, please. We can get them at the Citadel, but you'll probably find them used right here on Omega, if you have time to look," Daniels said.

"I'll get right on that."

Shepard continued with her tour of the ship. It seemed like every crewman had a story of How Cerberus Saved My Life. Illusive Man had really chosen well. No one seemed to know anything about the racism, or the horrible experiments on living subjects that Cerberus was doing only a couple years ago. Were they really all oblivious, or just fantastic liars? The sea of black, white, and yellow, Cerberus colors everywhere, was getting on her nerves. How many on this crew could she even count on?

_Chakwas, maybe. Joker, probably. And Garrus. Possibly those two in engineering; is that all?_

"Hey, Shepard," a voice called. She turned. She had wandered all the way back to the mess; the stocky, cheerful cook was addressing her.

"I mean, Commander," he corrected himself. "Are you busy?"

"Not very. What can I do for you?"

"Mess Sergeant Gardner. Thing is, we didn't leave port with the best rations. Kinda on the cheap-and-ready-made side, if I'm being honest. But what these men and women are doing, they deserve a good meal, you know?"

"Couldn't agree more. Get a list made up and get it to Lawson. Tell her I authorized her to do some shopping just as soon as we hit the Citadel." Shep glanced around uneasily as she realized the mess was filling up. Her stock might be low with the Alliance, but Cerberus soldiers were reaching out, touching her clothes as if she were some kind of holy woman.

_So I guess it wasn't hostility I was reading. I think this may be worse._

"Commander," Garrus said. "Are you feeling all right? You haven't looked well since you hit your head."

_Thanks, buddy._

"You know, you're right, Vakarian. I better just check in with the doctor, and make sure I'm good."

The message was clear, and the crowd dispersed enough for Shepard to escape to the infirmary, Garrus following behind.

"You're welcome," Garrus said.

"I owe you one."

"What are you two doing here? Were you fighting? Mr. Vakarian, I warned you about that." Chakwas's lips pursed.

"Direct order, Doctor. You know I'm not in charge here." Garrus leaned back against the wall, content to let Shepard take the brunt of the doctor's displeasure. Shepard glared at him, and he twitched a mandible.

_I know that look. That's his trouble-making look._

"In fact, Doctor, I think the good commander hit her head pretty hard, too," he said. "I think I'll duck out, though. Nothing wrong with me that a little rest won't fix."

Garrus made his escape, leaving Shepard to the doctor and, he thought, a well-deserved lecture.

#

"You son of a bitch," Shepard said, finding Garrus in the main battery several hours later.

_Who, me? _Garrus wondered. "What do you mean by that, Commander?" He watched as she stormed into his workspace, and flung herself on a bench.

"'Hit my head,'" she grumbled. "I'll get you for that one."

"Oh, I don't doubt that."

"And thanks to you," Shep continued, "now I've got to find Chakwas a bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy. Apparently, she had a brand-new bottle on the first _Normandy _when I got it destroyed."

"Really? I'm surprised. She doesn't seem like much of a drinker."

"Speaking of," Shepard said.

"Yes, Commander?"

"I won't tolerate a drunk on my ship. So whatever little problem you had on Omega, that ends if you want to stay here."

_How can she- did she not hear me tell her I've been drinking specifically while she was gone? Does she just think- Insufferable. Why I was dying for two years for this to come back, I'll never know. Treating me like a subordinate, after telling me I would always be her equal._

"Aye, aye, Captain," he said aloud. He watched her bristle at the hated word, "Captain," before turning away. "If you don't mind, I've got some work I'd like to get done tonight."

"Sure thing, Garrus. Good to have you back." Shepard clapped him on the back before leaving. Garrus seethed. Who did she think she was, anyway? Maybe she'd forgotten she had a whole team to take on Saren?

_Let it go. You weren't planning on drinking and you know she's off-limits. What does it matter if she talks to you like that?_

It mattered, though. Garrus gave up working on the battery and went to bed early, though he didn't fall asleep for a while.


	12. Runaround

Chapter Twelve

Runaround

Shepard adjusted her armor and checked that her pistol appeared to be working. Lawson and Taylor made their own adjustments. It shouldn't come down to firefights for this mission, but you never knew on Omega. The three of them stood by the _Normandy's_ main doors, ready to head back out into the crime-infested asteroid.

"Okay. So, we're going after this Solus character. This is strictly volunteer as there isn't much information about the plague he's dealing with. Has everybody got their air tanks in good order?"

Lawson and Taylor nodded.

"Once more, this is a volunteer mission, so- Garrus, I thought you were still on rest," Shepard said as Garrus sauntered towards them.

"I'm fit for duty, Commander." Shep thought there was something wrong with his tone, but she wasn't sure. She couldn't see his face well enough through his helmet, either.

_Deal with it later. Things to do._

"Anyway," Shep continued. "T'Loak said we could take a shuttle to the quarantine zone. Once there, we should just be able to ask Solus if he'll come with us. We're not sure how the merc groups are going to react if they realize Archangel made it out, though, so Garrus, keep a low profile. Hopefully, we took out anyone who might recognize us from yesterday. I doubt the mercs have much crew left, anyway. Let's move."

Shepard finished talking, made sure the seals on her helmet were good, and exited the ship, Garrus, Lawson, and Taylor following behind.

#

The shuttle did not take them to the quarantine zone. Instead, it dropped them off on the lower markets. A thousand conflicting smells, food from every culture, assaulted Shep as she removed her helmet. Shopkeepers of every race offered food, trinkets, weapon mods. Here in the markets, Shep saw the crowds she had expected on the main streets. Everywhere, people pushed to get where they were going just that little bit faster.

Shepard asked a batarian running an armor shop about the quarantine zone; he pointed and grunted, never looking up from his _Fornax_ magazine.

"Friendly," she muttered. She looked at Garrus, but he didn't respond.

_What's wrong with him? _she wondered again. She continued with her crew in the general direction the batarian had pointed, stopping at another booth, this one run by one of the slighter quarians.

"Excuse me," she said.

"You're here to buy ship parts? Keelah, please buy something. I cannot leave here without enough money to buy passage."

Even through the mask he could never remove, Shep could see his eyes pleading. She sighed. Was she wearing a "Please ask for anything" sign? "Happy to help, no payment required?"

"How much are you down?" she asked.

"A thousand credits. I'm on Pilgrimage, but I was robbed."

_Of course. _Tali had been on Pilgrimage when Shep met her; every quarian had to leave the Migrant Fleet, and return with something of value. It was the only way to become an adult and get assigned to your adult ship. The few quarians anybody ever saw were always on Pilgrimage, and usually not doing well, in Shep's experience.

"Do you know where the quarantine zone is?" she asked the quarian.

"Yes, of course. If you just go-"

"Lawson, make the transfer," Shep ordered.

"You're joking." Lawson rested one fist on a hip, her posture saying what her tone and words only hinted at.

"This gentleman has information for us. We're buying it off him."

The quarian's thanks overrode Lawson's grumbling as she made the transfer through her omni-tool. He gave them quick directions to the quarantine zone, warning them to be careful.

"I'm going to go buy passage out of here right now," he said. "Keelah se'lai, I won't forget your kindness."

"Oh, wait a second," Shep said before he could dash off. "I was supposed to look for FBA couplings, for an SR-line ship."

"Oh, sure, take them." The quarian rummaged in the piles of seeming-junk behind the counter, finally coming up with what looked like more scrap metal to Shepard. "These are what you want. I can deliver them to your ship?"

"Sure, it's called the _Normandy."_

"All right. Thank you, thank you so much," the quarian said before rushing away.

"Commander, the funds I have access to are for necessities only." Lawson glared at her.

"And who decides what's a necessity, Lawson?"

"You do, Commander." Her expression made it clear she wasn't happy about it.

"That's right. Let's keep moving."

Continuing through the crowds, Shepard headed for the quarantine zone. The food stalls became rare as they moved into what looked like apartments, living areas.

"You, madam! You are a blight!"

Shepard turned. The speaker was a batarian, wearing ragged robes.

"All humanity is a blight on the universe!" he continued. Shepard wondered at that, watching as he pointed to individuals in the crowd and called them each a blight individually. The crowd, nearly all of them human, laughed at the old batarian. Shep filed the image for later, intending to do something for him if she could. Get him some mental care, probably. Get him off the streets.

For now, she kept walking, and found what had to be the entrance to the quarantine zone. A turian in full armor stood in front of huge metal blast doors, ensuring no one could get into or out of it without getting by him.

"We're going in there," Shep told the guard. "We need to speak to Dr. Solus."

"I don't think so. No ins, no outs."

"Look, we already spoke to Aria T'Loak-"

The turian guard punched a couple buttons on his omni-tool.

"Hey, I've got a human here, wants to go into the quarantine zone. Female, red and black armor?"

"My name is Commander Shepard," she said.

"_Negative," _came the reply. _"That's the dead Spectre, she needs to talk with Aria."_

"I spoke with her yesterday."

"I don't know what to tell you."

Shep glared. She could kill the guard, but T'Loak had more. Probably hiding in the halls here, waiting for her to make a mistake.

"Back to the club," she snapped. _I don't know what the fuck she wants, but this is getting ridiculous._

#

At the club, she was stopped by another one of T'Loak's guards.

"Aria has a favor to ask you," the guard said.

"I need to speak to her," Shep said.

"I'm afraid she's busy at the moment."

Shepard glanced up at the dais, where Aria T'Loak stood watching her club, a cocktail in her hand.

"What's the favor?" Shep growled. Her armor was already starting to dig into her shoulders. She was supposed to have been able to just ask Solus to join, and then leave.

"There's a krogan… friend she has, called the Patriarch. Someone's gunning for him. Go get him for her, take him to this address." The guard handed her a slip of paper.

_And she has no one on this rock who can escort someone to another part of this rock?_

"Where do I find him?"

"Lower level of the club. He has a private room here."

Shepard stormed away, spotting the stairs on the other side of the room. Aria T'Loak waved cheerily as Shep's group passed underneath her perch.

"What's that all about?" Garrus asked.

"I owe her two favors from getting info on you and Dr. Solus. And I think she's trying to trap me in something so that she has a justification for killing me." Garrus stared at her, but as he was still wearing his helmet, she still couldn't read his expression.

_Downstairs, private room._ The Patriarch appeared to be giving a class; she could hear him before she even got to his room. She followed the krogan voice to its source.

The older krogan was giving a lecture, on mob-boss techniques, it sounded like, but stopped when she entered the room. His students eyed her curiously.

"Are you the Patriarch?" she asked him.

"Maybe."

"Great. Aria T'Loak is concerned for your safety. Some people coming to get you. Come with me, please."

"What if I don't want to? Tired of being that blue bitch's pet."

"We don't really have time to discuss this," Shep said.

"Don't have time for much of anything," the Patriarch returned, pointing behind her.

_Cue the mercenaries. She really is trying to get me killed._

"Are you here for the Patriarch?" she asked.

"Yeah. Who the hell are you?" the mercenary in the middle asked. All three mercenaries were focused on Shepard, so she didn't try to draw a weapon.

"Whenever you're ready," she said instead. The mercenary seemed about to ask what that meant, but her team had caught Shep's command. Before any mercenaries could react, Lawson, Taylor, and Garrus had each taken one out. She nodded at them.

The Patriarch was excited. "That'll teach them. You could stay here, work as my _krantt."_

"Sorry, I have other things to do. I don't have time to be kept here as a pet," Shep said. The Patriarch stiffened.

"What did you say to me?"

"Don't let her keep you as a trophy. You're a fucking krogan." Shepard left, then. It was all starting all over again. She knew the Reapers were coming, and she knew she had to stop them. Not to mention the Collectors, who were here now, kidnapping colonies full of people. And yet every jackass she ran into needed something else, some other demand on her time. She wove through the bar, intending to go back upstairs and tell T'Loak exactly what she thought of her, then she had a better idea.

Shepard leaned onto the bar, gesturing for a drink. The batarian bartender slid her a glass of something.

"Commander," Taylor said, "we don't really have time for this."

"We have time for everything else, I have time for one drink." She downed the blue liquid, telling herself that one drink in public was okay. It burned going down, spreading into a comfortable warmth in her stomach. Then it became slightly less comfortable. She drew her gun as she realized her vision was going blurry, but she couldn't aim properly; the batarian's face was moving and there were eight eyes, twelve eyes to shoot at. She collapsed before she could pick a set to shoot, vision going black as her crew leaned over her, shaking her shoulder.


	13. Dead Drunk

Chapter Thirteen

Dead Drunk

Shepard woke to find herself puking blood.

_Well, that's new._

What felt like a dozen hands helped keep her kneeling, with her upper body slightly off the ground, keeping her out of her own mess.

_You know what? Never threw up before. Thrown up three times this week. Tired of that. Not doing it anymore._

"I'm good," she muttered, pushing to her feet and brushing hands away. "I'm good. What happened?"

A human she didn't know spoke up.

"You violated the first rule of Omega. Don't drink in Afterlife, if you're human."

"You have three seconds to explain yourself." Shepard looked around, wiped her mouth. She was in the alleys, somewhere underneath the nice levels, probably underneath even the lower markets. Lawson and Taylor stood close by. Garrus was a little further, still in his helmet, holding his arms across his chest.

_You look tense, buddy. Shoulda had some of what I had._

"…You're the first person to survive it, so far as I know."

_Shit, I missed all that._ She remembered getting a drink before passing out.

"The batarian bartender? He's poisoning people?" she asked.

"Yeah. Just humans, I think. My friend was celebrating…."

"I'll take care of this." She turned and strode away. Her crew fell in behind her, all talking at once. The words jumbled until Shep could hardly identify them.

"Shouldn't go back there, not now-"

"Need to rest, then we can go-"

"You may have been built strong enough to resist being poisoned, but you're in hardly any condition to fight-"

"Quiet," Shep said. She studied a sign on the wall, trying to figure out what direction would take them to the shuttles, or to Afterlife. The asari letters danced in front of her eyes, repositioning themselves so that they made even less sense.

"Someone read this," she demanded.

"Commander, you're not fit right now. You can't even read the sign yourself." Lawson looked as if she was trying to be sympathetic and failing.

"Lawson. You have two choices here. Help me back to the club so I can repay that bartender's kindness, or make me wander for hours looking for the bar, and then I will still find the bartender, only I'll be much more exhausted when I do."

Lawson looked around for help. She outranked Taylor, who simply shrugged; he didn't know the Commander very well, anyway. Garrus stood slightly hunched, seemingly in pain.

"You may as well help her," he said. "She's not kidding when she says she won't give up on this."

Lawson sighed. "I'll take you there. But promise you won't have everyone in the bar shooting at you today."

"No promises."

Lawson looked around again, but there was still no help.

"Let's go then, Commander. Jacob, Garrus. Help me keep her alive?"

#

At the bar once more, Shepard pushed through the crowds to get to her target. After a few pushes and one patron knocked down, people started clearing a path. The batarian bartender had his back turned when Shep reached the bar and slammed her gun down onto it.

"You," she snarled.

The bartender turned, eyes going wide in shock. "Aren't you- no, wait, you humans all look the same. I'm mistaking you for someone else."

Shepard grabbed the collar of his shirt and brought his face down to crash into the bar, the barrel of her pistol inches away from his eyes.

"I think you mistook me the first time, when you thought you could poison me and get away with it." She leaned her face close to his. "Now here's what we're going to do. You're going to pour yourself a glass of that same stuff, and you're going to drink it, and we won't have any further problem."

The patrons around the bar shifted away, their full attention on the altercation in front of them.

"But that will- No," the bartender protested.

"There's an alternative. If you don't want the easy way, I can just take your eyes. One… by one… by one… by one. Then, I'll hurt you. Until I'm quite sure you're learned your lesson."

"Shep," Garrus said quietly. She ignored him. The bartender struggled, but Shep kept his collar gripped in her fist.

One of the customers at the club, a turian, leaned in closer. "I think she's serious, Forvan. Might just be the best way out, if you've been poisoning people."

Forvan rolled his eyes, looking for someone to help him. "But I… please…."

Shepard didn't waver.

"Oh… okay," he finally said. "Let me just…."

Shepard let him go so he could bring out his bottle of poisoned liquor.

"Eat shit, human," the batarian yelled, bringing out a gun instead. Shepard didn't even have time to raise her pistol, though, before his face exploded in a splatter of rust-colored blood across the back of the bar.

"Thanks for giving me a reason," the turian said. "He always overcharges for drinks, anyway."

Shepard nodded to the turian, and made her way to the stairs.

"Shepard, what now? I think you need a rest. You're unhinged." Garrus was keeping pace with her without effort. Shepard heard the concern in his voice, and ignored it.

"Now, Aria T'Loak. She's going to get us into the quarantine zone, we are grabbing Dr. Solus whether he likes it or not, and we are getting the fuck out of here.

Aria T'Loak's guards did not try to stop Shepard from approaching the dais this time.

_Lucky them._

"T'Loak," Shepard growled.

The asari smiled, unconcerned. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Spectre? Are you here to repay some favors?"

"I fixed your little Patriarch problem. And I took care of the bartender who was poisoning your customers. I need to get into the quarantine zone. Now."

"Oh, that's not a very good idea." T'Loak pouted, the look belying how dangerous Shepard knew the woman to be. "Besides, I see you've found your turian friend. Are you going to risk him after all that work, on a plague only humans and vorcha are immune to?"

"I'll mind my crew. And don't think I'm forgetting how helpful it is for you that Archangel has disappeared."

T'Loak laughed lightly. "Well, I do thank you for your assistance. But I think we're done now. Please feel free to visit Omega any time."

T'Loak's guards moved in. Lawson and Taylor both tensed, blue auras charging up to ready their biotics.

"A moment," Garrus said. He pressed a few buttons on his omni-tool, and a file appeared on Shep's.

"This might help," he told her. "Something the mercs were talking about, when I was hitting their bases pretty hard. Just politics, really. Change in regimes, stuff like that."

Shepard skimmed the file, then broke into a grin. Aria shifted in her seat, eyes narrowing.

"What does it say?" she demanded.

"Oh, no. You wouldn't be interested in this. Besides, our business is complete, as you stated. I think I'll come back later; things might be a little different around here. Fairly soon."

"Forward that to me, and you have free range of my station." T'Loak rose from her chair, and for a moment Shepard admired the woman's self-possession; the asari's gaze was steady.

"Not good enough. For the date of your death, not to mention the name of the Judas, I'm thinking you'll also owe me one, whenever I come back here."

"Fine. Send it."

"I have some business to attend to, first. The sooner it's done, the sooner this is sent."

Aria T'Loak slammed down a button on the console next to her chair. "Make sure the dead Spectre has access to any public areas. Immediately." She looked to Shepard. "Good enough?"

"Should be. You'd better hope I don't get killed today. If you try to hack the message, you'll be dead before you get it decoded."

Shepard turned. She was here for the salarian doctor, and she was going to get him.

"Shep, you're aware that she's just going to try to have you killed as soon as you send that, aren't you?" Garrus asked.

"She'll get it when we're leaving. If she thinks she can take the _Normandy,_ let her try."


	14. The Doctor

Chapter Fourteen

The Doctor

"Garrus." Shep had stopped just outside the quarantine zone, near the batarian who was still preaching on the blight of humankind. "I don't need to risk you dying on this. Why don't you head back to the ship? If you wanted to be a pal, see if they have a bottle of Serrice ice brandy for Chakwas at the bar."

"If you need me, Shepard, I'm not going to let a little cough interfere."

Shepard glanced over at Lawson and Taylor.

"I think we're good. I've got those two. We're only here to pick up a doctor, after all. And if we do run into trouble, it would be easier to deal with if we weren't also dragging around an unconscious turian."

"Aye aye, Commander." Garrus walked away, holding his shoulders stiffly. Now that the blood rage was no longer pounding behind her eyes, she could wonder again at what his problem was. She didn't really have time to find out, though. They had to get Solus before T'Loak decided to mobilize against them. Hopefully, the asari would cool down from all this before they had to come back.

_If we ever come back. It'd be nice to never come to this puddle of piss again._

This time, when Shep and her team approached the guard to the quarantine zone, he stepped aside immediately. So far, so good.

Once inside, Shep saw that the quarantine zone was littered with the dead and dying. A familiar cloying sweet smell that was disturbingly close to food smells filled the air.

"Are they burning the bodies?" Taylor asked.

"They're probably trying to stop the spread of plague," Lawson offered. Shep put her helmet on, and the other two followed suit. The smell, however, had already gotten into her hair. She knew from experience that it would take at least three showers to completely get rid of it.

"Let's move, people. We're here for a reason."

Progress through the slums was slow. Although most of the citizens appeared to be dead, Shepard still wanted to be sure. Emergencies brought looters, lowlifes; there were far too many doors and hallways for Shep to just trot through, trusting that no one would appear to shoot her in the back.

Wild varren roamed the streets, their batarian masters dead, or fled. Most of them scattered when the three humans in full armor approached, but more than once they were forced to shoot one that had gone even more feral than normal.

"I don't like this, Commander," Taylor said.

_Dozens of corpses, a plague that wipes out almost anyone it runs into, varren starving and ready to eat people? What's not to like?_

They followed the signs pointing them to the clinic; if Solus was helping plague victims, he would likely be there. Probably with too many patients struggling to breathe filling up every extra space in the clinic.

Shepard paused to scan the next hallway, pistol at the ready before she slid around the corner. A batarian corpse reached out for her ankle, and Shep barely refrained from firing. He gasped something unintelligible, and Shep crouched down.

"Humans… did this…." His voice was garbled. He didn't look like he would survive the trip to the clinic, or the wait until medical help could get to him.

"Here," she said, giving him a dose of medi-gel.

"Don't… want… false pity." The batarian reached one weak hand for his gun, lying almost within reach. Shep slid it further away.

"It's okay, buddy. You can kill me when you're better. I'll send someone, okay?" She didn't wait for a response. They needed Solus now.

Further into the slums, they began finding corpses of mercenaries killed in battle, rather than just civilian plague victims.

"No reason for this shit," Taylor muttered.

"It's the way it always is, Jacob. Every disaster brings out the worst in some people." Lawson's tone was reasonable, untainted by any kind of regret for what she was seeing.

"Keep alert, people. See those scratchings in the wall? The vorcha have claimed this area. Be on guard."

They saw no vorcha, however, as they followed the signs through main streets and reached the clinic.

_That was too easy. What's it going to be, a nuke as we try to leave?_

"Hey, you." A man dressed in scrubs spoke as they entered the clinic. His hands were full of gauze, medi-gel packs. Hair that hadn't been brushed in days lay plastered to his skull. "You shoot anyone in the clinic, the doc won't be happy. You've been warned."

Shepard holstered her weapon, showing her open hands to the orderly. "You know where he is?" The orderly jerked his head toward the back.

Shep stepped carefully over the sick, letting the medical staff bustle around her, too busy to even ask what armed soldiers were doing here. There clearly weren't enough beds, and most of the patients- batarian, turian, salarian- were laid out on the floor. The lucky ones were still coughing and gasping, trying to force enough air into their lungs to keep going a little longer. Others breathed shallowly, eyes glazed. Apparently Solus was not making much progress yet on the plague.

They found the doctor in one of the private patient rooms, no longer private now that eight or nine patients were sharing floor space. He bustled, as well, giving hurried instructions to his helpers.

"Professor? We're running low on ciproxin."

"Use malanarin. Plenty on hand. Almost as good; causes cramping in batarians. Supplement with butemerol. Cenazine is the catalyst. Bonds to genetic markers. Hard to find. Expensive to produce. Why not heplacore? Too unstable. Inconsistent results. Demozane better options. No, no, no. Demozane toxic to humans. Not an option. Not an option."

"Dr. Solus?" Shepard asked. The salarian doctor looked at her for a moment. One of his fleshy horns was shortened, ending in scar tissue; a reminder of his days at Special Tasks Group?

"Human. Not sick. No time, come back later."

"Dr. Solus, we need to speak with you," Shep pressed. Solus paused, large eyes flicking quickly from her to Lawson and Taylor, then returning to his work. He entered something into his omni-tool, wrote down a brief instruction on a chart sitting on a patient's chest, then walked to the next room. Briskly. Everything a salarian did, was done briskly.

"Don't recognize you as locals. Well-armed, not refugees. No mercenary colors. Quarantine still in effect. Here for something else. Clear out vorcha? Unlikely. Plague? Study for bio-weapons? Too many guns. No lab equipment. Soldiers, not scientists."

Shepard tried to wait patiently. At least it shouldn't take long, as quickly as he was talking.

"Hired guns? Here for someone. Yes. But who? Someone important. Valuable. Here for me?"

"Yes, Doctor Solus. I'm Commander Shepard. We are on a critical mission and we need your help."

"Mission? No, no, no, no. Too busy. Plague here. Mission here. Who sent you?"

"We can go into that later. For right now, it's a privately funded human group."

"Human group? Unlikely. Human-centric. Plague? Plague not affecting humans. My name unknown among humans. Spectres not human. Terra Firma too unstable. Cerberus sent you? Looking for salarian. Must be truly desperate. Cerberus dangerous when desperate. Although, Cerberus always dangerous. Still: desperation not improvement. Here about missing colonists, then." The shock had slowed the salarian's speech to the point that Shep no longer wanted to shake him. As much.

"Yes, Doctor. We need your help."

"Challenging. Appealing, certainly. But busy. Have cure for plague, but no way to distribute it. Vorcha swarming. Need soldiers. Get cure into ventilation." Solus smiled, mouth stretched thin across his face.

"I distribute the cure, and you're on board?" Shep waited. There had to be a catch… other than swarming vorcha, that is.

"Yes, yes, yes. Work with Cerberus. Cure plague, done here. Change of scenery." The entire time Solus was talking, he never stopped moving. Check on a patient, write some orders, turn back to Shepard.

"Fine. Give me the cure, and-"

A grinding metal screech interrupted her bargain.

"No good. No good at all." Solus rushed out into the hallway. "Air. They've stopped air. If not fixed soon, will all suffocate. Here." Solus moved to a set of lab equipment, removing a set of vials to put them into a bag, already nearly filled. "Take these. Same ventilation system. Turn on air, distribute cure into it. Airborne."

Shepard took the bag, slinging it over her shoulder.

"One more thing. My assistant. Human. Went out to look for patients. Keep eye out, yes? Would be… disappointed. If he does not come back."

"Yes. There was a batarian. Sick. On our way in. You can send someone?" Shepard grimaced as she realized she was adopting salarian speech patterns.

_Okay, so I can't spend much time talking to him. He'll still be valuable._

"I'll send someone. Hurry, please. Many patients dying. Clinic staff dying as well, without air."

"Taylor, Lawson. Let's move."

#

There were fewer plague bodies in the halls past the clinic; Solus's crew must have been picking people up. They hadn't cleared any of the bodies from mercenary fights, however. Dead mercs in Blue Suns armor lay next to dead vorcha, in small groups scattered near intersections.

"They've given up a lot of turf," Taylor commented. "Doesn't look good for the Suns."

"Spreading themselves too thin. Should have been Archangel or territory scuffles, not both." Shepard rolled her shoulders, trying to measure the ache in her muscles. Was it worse than before? Worse than yesterday? It was hard to tell. She needed a rest, and thought she probably wasn't going to get a real one for some time.

"Commander, watch out," Lawson called. Shep was already ducking, sliding into cover. It was only a handful of vorcha, easily taken care of.

"Surprised there aren't more." Lawson nudged one of the bodies with her foot.

"There will be," Shep said. "If they turned off the air, they'll be waiting for us by the controls."

Raised voices caught her attention. They were coming from an apartment.

"Stay back," Shep ordered, opening the door.

Several batarians were threatening a young man, shaking a bag in his face. She heard the clink of glass vials, and realized it must be more of the cure Dr. Solus had synthesized.

"You Solus's assistant?" Shep asked. Three batarians swiveled to train their weapons on her. The fourth stepped behind the human hostage, pressing a gun to his head.

"Stay out of this, human. This one's spreading plague. Just leave, if you don't want what he's getting."

Shepard kept her gun up. She could take the shot, but there were three others. Bad odds for the hostage.

"That doesn't make any sense. This is vorcha territory. The vorcha are immune to everything; why would he spread plague here?" Shep's voice was confident; the batarians shuffled, looking between her and their leader.

"I don't care why," he said. "He dies. You die too, then."

"Wait." Pistol still in her left hand, Shep eased her right into the bag. "He's got these, right? These are the cure. We're trying to help. Besides, I've got reinforcements outside the door. You kill anyone here, and you're not leaving. Let him go and we all walk away." She made sure her voice carried, and hoped that Lawson and Taylor weren't complete idiots.

"You have no reinforcements," the batarian said.

"Commander?" called Lawson. "Should I bring them in?"

"Negative, Lawson. Keep your team there. If you hear shooting, kill anyone who leaves." Shep kept her eyes on the batarian leader's, waiting for his response.

"We let him go, you let us go?" he asked.

"You have my word."

Abruptly, the batarian shoved Solus's assistant away. He dropped the bag of antidote, but kept his weapon, pointed at the ground.

"Four batarians coming out, Lawson. Keep your team under cover and let them pass."

"Roger that."

The batarians ambled to the door, eyes still on Shepard. Their leader stopped in front of her.

"You're really not going to kill us?"

"Promised I wouldn't," Shep replied.

"Human keeping a promise?" The batarian grunted, shaking his head.

"Wait," Solus's assistant shouted, scrambling to the bag that had been dropped. He grabbed five vials and offered them to the batarian.

"Please, take these. Have one tested, but then take the others. You've already been exposed to the plague." The batarian took them slowly, feeding them one at a time into an ammo pouch.

"We'll remember this, humans," he said. Then the batarians were gone.

Shep turned to the human, Dr. Solus's assistant. "You need to get back to the clinic. Solus could use your help." She hitched her own bag up, trying to make it less heavy.

"You… you saved me. I really thought they were going to shoot me, or you'd shoot them. Or both."

"Go on, kiddo. I've got more work here." Shepard left, nodding at her team to follow. They fell in behind her.

_We got out with no bloodshed. Anderson would acknowledge something like that._

"Good work, team. Let's get this cure dispersed."

#

The hallways were relatively clear. EDI fed them directions through their helmet radios. Soon, Shep could hear the weird non-sound of mechanics not running.

"You hear that?" she asked.

Lawson and Taylor looked at one another. "Uh… no?" he said.

"We're close." The two biotics exchanged a look.

_No tech training. No idea what they're supposed to be listening for._

Shepard crouched as she reached a set of maintenance doors.

"_Commander, the ventilation system is ahead of you. You will need to reactivate the fans before distributing the cure."_

"Thanks, EDI. That's extremely helpful information." Shep crept into the room. She saw no vorcha as yet.

"Human!" came the hiss.

_There we are._

Vorcha came pouring out of halls and alcoves. They were slight, with oversized red eyes and viscous teeth.

"You no stop us. Collectors want plague, help vorcha. You no fix."

"We are here to stop this plague. I advise you to leave." Shep readied her pistol.

_They never just leave._

The vorcha opened fire, and Shepard's team returned fire from under cover.

_I could have also advised you to wear armor this morning._

Shepard knew it took a lot to take down a vorcha; their small stature belied their resilience. Still, with three soldiers firing on them, and Lawson or Taylor throwing biotic attacks at them as well, the vorcha had no chance.

Shepard smiled as she took out one after another. Her aim was improving. She was still fatigued, every muscle was on fire and screaming, but she could shoot where she meant to. She lost herself in the battle haze, conscious of nothing except the location of her targets, the location of her team.

A few minutes or hours later, Shepard's mind cleared. Two dozen or so vorcha lay in pools of blood around the room. Not one had gotten within ten meters of the door that Shepard and her crew had been defending. Shepard glanced at each of her crewmen. Some scuffs on Taylor's armor, a slight singe on Lawson's cat suit. No injuries.

Shepard pulled the front panel off the ventilation system, digging into the wiring to reattach severed connections. After a moment, the fans were running. She pulled a glass vial out of her bag, and dropped it. Shattered glass spread by her feet.

"Let me," Lawson said, taking vials out and uncorking them, looking for a place to get them into the now-moving air.

_Wiring, yes; guns, yes; but glass bottles no?_ Muscle memory was coming back in bits and pieces. Oh, well; at least it was the important stuff coming back first. Shepard took the bag off her shoulder, leaving it so Lawson could work. Taylor sat nearby, focused on the main door in case there were vorcha reinforcements.

Shep pressed a few buttons on her omni-tool, analyzing the chemical breakdown of the air coming from the vents.

"It's in the air supply. Dump those and let's go." Shep sent a message to Dr. Solus at the clinic. The reply was almost immediate.

"_Cure distributed. Found sick batarian. Assistant returned. Meet you at ship, Captain."_

Shepard's body tried to relax, but she argued with it. She jumped in place a couple times, then drew her gun to remind it that they weren't done yet. She would be able to relax once they were safely on the ship.


	15. Old Friend

Chapter Fifteen

Old Friend

Shepard stepped out of the shower, shrugging into her mechanic's coveralls. She needed something else. The undersuit was for wearing with the armor, and Chambers had told her when she asked earlier that they didn't have another set of coveralls for her. She hadn't met Shep's eyes when she said it, though.

_We're hitting the Citadel soon, anyway._ Shep set her messages to play while she dried her hair. Admiral Hackett wanted something; didn't he always? Various groups were having trouble with mercs, disputes, missing ships; only the Shepard could help, apparently. Anderson wanted her to meet him at the Citadel; she listened to the message, reading between the lines to his real point: the woman who made me a councilor is dead, so who the hell are you?

_How do they all know I'm back, anyway? Either Mr. Illusive has a leak, too, or he's deliberately disseminating that information._

Shep shrugged. It didn't really make a difference. She was used to people gunning for her. The less she thought she was incognito, the less she would be surprised when someone pulled a weapon on her. She tossed her wet towel in the general direction of the bathroom. It was nice knowing that she would no longer have to keep things squared away for inspections. Rank did come with perks. She reached for her toes, trying to work a kink out of her back, and swore quietly when she couldn't even get close.

_Wonder if Chakwas wants to give me my next round of shots, yet. Well, I did bring her brandy… wait, did I? I don't know if Garrus got it. Better find out._

Shepard hopped into the elevator, headed for the main battery.

"Hey, Joker, you on duty?" she asked her omni-tool.

"_Always on duty, Commander. What's up?"_

"Once Solus reports in, we're going to the Citadel."

"_He's on board, Commander. We'll be on our way."_

Shepard nodded to herself, waiting for the elevator to complete its interminable crawl downward.

#

"Garrus, you got a minute?" Garrus could feel Shepard standing by the door to the main battery, staring at his back. He didn't turn to greet her.

_The woman has some nerve._

"Can it wait a bit, Commander? I'm in the middle of some calibrations."

"Garrus, what happened to you?" Shep moved toward him, leaning on his work station.

"What happened to _me?"_ He gaped at her, mandibles slack.

"Yes, what happened. You used to be… easygoing, I guess. Our last mission was just as tense. You still had time for a joke. Now…."

"You are unbelievable," he muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"You want to know what happened to me? I ended up on Omega, running a crew of vigilantes. One day I'm betrayed, and they're all dead save one. Then you show up… as you are." Garrus moved further into the battery, opening up a panel to work on its innards. He grabbed a tool, something he'd bought on Omega to supplement all the human-designed tools on this ship, and started banging around.

_Just leave me alone, why don't you?_

"Well, how'd you get to Omega? Last I heard, you were going for Spectre training."

Garrus slammed his wrench down and got up, looming over Shepard's inadequate height.

"You want to know what happened to me. Let's see, I saved the fucking galaxy with you. There was that. Then I left to become a Spectre. Then, surprise, you're dead. I hadn't realized until then- I couldn't handle it, okay? I started drinking, went to Omega, the end."

Shepard looked up at his face, and Garrus was struck by how delicate she seemed, how tiny. The woman was a monster on the battlefield, and she had to crane her neck just to look into his eyes.

_Stop thinking like that, Vakarian. You're nothing to each other._

"That's the part I don't get, though, Garrus. Why'd you start drinking? You're not the type. Even after the Reaper, when everyone else was celebrating, you just watched them. With me. No drinking in public, remember?"

"Shep, you were everywhere," he said helplessly. "Everywhere I turned, you were standing there, only to morph into some stranger when I got close. You were gone. It didn't help that everyone and their mother tried to color their hair like you after you were branded Hero of the Citadel." Garrus sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall.

"'Everyone and their mother?'" Shep asked, sitting next to him.

Garrus tried not to let his mandibles tuck inward; she knew already what embarrassment looked like on a turian.

"Yes, well." Garrus coughed. "It seems some of your charming human idioms have slipped into my speech. It doesn't go over well with other turians, by the way. The-"

_Don't say deadSheps,_ he reminded himself.

"The, ah, redheads were everywhere. Every other woman, it seemed, tried to get her hair your shade. Most of them curled it, too. Not one of them could get the exact color." Garrus couldn't stop himself from reaching a gentle talon toward her hair, letting a hank curl around his finger.

"It's just red, Garrus."

"You humans are all colorblind," he teased.

"Well, if that was the problem, why aren't you better now?" Shep pulled back a little so she could see him, moving her hair away from his hand in the process. "I mean, you lost a friend, so what? I'm back. We lost other friends."

Garrus felt his jaw tense as the word "friend" cut his heart.

_Why don't you understand, Shep? Are you trying not to?_

"You're not back," he told her instead. "Not really. You're angry, Shep. You're not the woman I knew before. That one-"

"Hold on there, cowboy. I'm the same person I was before. I'm always angry. I've been angry since Mindoir." Shep's brow furrowed.

"It's not the same," he argued. "You may have been angry before, but I never saw it. You kept it under control."

"Bullshit, Vakarian. Ask Alenko how well it was under control. Ask any of my Alliance crew."

"I never saw it," he repeated. "Maybe before you took command, but when I saw you, you were trying. You brought your anger into the sparring room, remember? This," he said, gesturing towards her. "This is not the… friend I lost. You're a different person who happens to look like her."

Shepard stood up, putting some distance between them.

"Did you get that brandy Chakwas wanted?"

Garrus got up, pulling a bottle out from under his work station. Shepard grabbed it, leaving without looking back.

"Appreciate it," she said.

Garrus turned back to his work, sighing.

#

Shepard popped her head into the infirmary. "Trade a bottle of Serrice ice for some shots?"

Dr. Chakwas smiled, getting up to accept the bottle.

"Commander Shepard, you shouldn't have."

"You made it pretty clear that I should. So anyway, some muscle booster shots?"

"All right. If you stay and have a drink with me," Chakwas said.

"Is that safe, Doctor?"

"As long as you don't overdo it."

#

Chakwas shouted, rising out of her chair, swaying on her feet. "I thought Alenko's attack would have broken his back, but Jenkins just popped right up and said 'That was awesome!'" Shepard laughed with her, and the doctor collapsed back into her chair.

"Oh, I do miss the Alliance, Commander. Nothing like it in the galaxy."

"But you joined Cerberus," Shep pointed out. It seemed like an important point, but Shepard forgot why once she'd said it. The room was tilting back and forth pleasantly, a pleasure cruise in the infirmary.

"Yes, I'm aware of that." Chakwas drained her cup, pouring another each for herself and Shepard. "It's not like I wanted to leave the Alliance. But there was Joker, and the _Normandy._ And you, soon enough. Just like old times. Gallivanting around the universe. Me, pretending to be heroes while the real heroes did all the work."

"You were heroes… heroes…." Shepard knew there was something wrong with the word, but couldn't figure out what.

_This stuff is strong._

"You were heroes, Chakwas. Without your ex… knowledge, we all would have died." She raised her glass. "To doctors."

"No, no, no. Not doctors. How about… to old friends?"

_Old friends who act like major jackasses, maybe. I should promote him to Major. Call him Major Jackass._

Shepard snorted into her glass.

"Anything worth sharing?" Chakwas raised an eyebrow at her.

"No. It's nothing."

"You should tell someone what you're thinking." Chakwas folded her arms on the desk, using them as a pillow. "You should always tell someone, because who knows when you might die… again." Chakwas chuckled to herself. "Last time, you didn't tell anyone anything."

Shepard tried to think of an answer to that, but before she came up with anything, Chakwas was snoring.

_She is going to have one hell of a crick in her neck._ Shepard struggled to her feet, fighting not just weak muscles and painful medicine that was improving them, but also the massive amount of strong liquor she had drunk.

_And she didn't have anywhere near as much as I did._ Lawson had said something about resistance to poison; that was probably helping here, too.

"Come on, Doctor, up you get." Shep threw the unconscious doctor's arm over her own shoulder, dragging her across to the patient beds. She managed to get most of Chakwas on a bed; the legs were hanging off.

_Close enough. _Shepard considered one more for the road, then shook her head, making the world spin into swatches of color. _No, I think I've probably had just enough._

Shep staggered toward the door, hitting the light switch on the way out. She didn't want to hit her rack, yet.

_Tell someone. _Yes. Tell someone. Tell Mr. Major Jackass Vakarian what he could do with his opinions of her now that she was returned from the dead.

#

"You don't have the high ground here, Mister, you started it."

Garrus turned toward the door, wondering just what the hell was going on. Was Shepard drunk?

She walked toward him, swaying only slightly. He recoiled from the liquor smell as she poked him in the chest.

"No high ground," she repeated.

"What are you talking about? You need to get to bed." Garrus wondered how crowded the mess would be; the best solution would probably be to bring her to bed, but she was going to be pissed in the morning if the whole crew saw her drunk.

_Not my fault, not my problem. I didn't get her drunk._

"High ground," Shep said for the third time. "You don't get to complain about how I came back, because you were already gone. You left first, Vakran."

_But I left _for _you._ Garrus had left to become a Spectre; they would have been equals after his training.

_She'd never treated you like a subordinate before, though. That was your call and had nothing to do with her._

"Shep, I'm sorry-" Garrus's mouth snapped shut. How did she do that? Just how, when he was furious with her, did she get him to apologize? "Shepard, you need to get to bed now."

Shepard stumbled a little, and ended up leaning against his chest. Garrus instinctively wrapped his arms around her, keeping her from falling.

"You left me," she said. "You were my best friend, and you left me. You an' Tali, an' Wrex, an' Liara, an' you all left me all alone. Why'd you do that?"

"Shepard, it's not like that, you-" Garrus paused. The tone of her breathing had changed. "Shepard, are you still awake? …Shep?"

_Great, so you can wake up DrunkShep, and have Angry DrunkShep, instead. Or you can let her sleep here, and have an angry sober Shep in the morning. What to choose, when every option holds such delights?_

_Or, you can bypass the lock system you installed on her cabin, and leave her in her bed. With any luck, she won't remember._

Garrus nodded, scooping his Shep up in his arms. He breathed deeply, scenting her hair, then chided himself. The woman was unconscious.

It seemed wrong to dump her in her bed and run away, though. But then, what was the human saying, something about discretion and valor? Yes, discretion. Garrus wasn't nervous about how she would wake up, just discreet.

_Keep telling yourself that, "Vakran."_

_Shut up. I don't have time for you. I have to get her to bed before she wakes, then figure out what the hell she was talking about here. What all this means. If she's mostly angry that I left… well, that's something that can be fixed, isn't it?_

_Give it up already, Vakarian._

No, he wouldn't. If it was at all possible that this was some sort of misunderstanding, he was going to explore that possibility. Besides, they were two different species, with two alien cultures. A minor dispute here and there was to be expected. They weren't doing half bad, considering.

_You might want to shut down that line of thinking before you're putting her into bed, Vakarian._

_Shit._ Garrus hoped she sometimes slept in her clothes. Given his unruly thoughts, he was not up to the task of undressing her for bed.

_If she were to wake up, though, and in a good mood…._

_Shut it down, soldier. Putting her to bed, and nothing else._


	16. Citadel

Chapter Sixteen

Citadel

_I wonder what you call half a hangover?_ Shep wondered. She had apparently gone to bed fully clothed, she couldn't remember a thing past her third glass of brandy, and the clock said twelve hours had passed. On the other hand, she had no headache, she didn't appear to have been sick, and the bright lights in her room weren't giving her any trouble.

Shep pulled her tank top off, grabbing a new one from the drawer. Dropping the old one on the floor, she noticed something odd.

Shep picked up the tank again. How had she managed to put holes in the back of her shirt? They almost looked like….

_Huh._

"EDI, what's our ETA?"

_"The _Normandy _is expected to arrive in Citadel space in two hours, twenty-seven minutes."_

_Great, I have time._ Time for breakfast, time to read dossiers, and plenty of time to ask a certain turian about the holes in her shirt.

#

"Think fast," Shep shouted, and Garrus turned in time to catch flying fabric on his face. He pulled it carefully away from his mandibles, then froze.

_This is Shepard's shirt._

"You want to tell my why there's claw marks on my clothes, big guy?"

"I only put you to bed," he told her. Shepard crossed her arms, waiting for him to continue. She was standing in the doorway, trapping him in the main battery.

"You were very drunk," Garrus continued. Still she waited.

_Wait a minute, I didn't anything wrong. She came in here, drunk._

"I'm not sure I'm the one who should be embarrassed, Commander, considering some of the things you said last night." Shepard stiffened.

_That got her._

"What did I say?"

"I don't remember." Garrus lifted his chin. It wasn't often you got leverage over Shep. He held her old shirt out to her and she yanked it out of his hand. Her face was coloring slightly.

"Commander, is that a human mandible-tuck?"

"Eat it, Vakarian, I don't blush. Tell me what happened."

"Let's just say now I know why you don't drink in public." Garrus watched as Shepard ran through the possibilities.

_Poor thing._ "Fine, Shep," he said, unable to torture her any longer. "You were mostly angry that I left after the Reaper mission was completed."

"Is that all?"

"Pretty much."

Shep's color faded back to normal. "It did seem like you all abandoned me. I guess I thought… I don't know. I guess I thought you all might stick around. Not leave alone me to be killed, and then resurrected by Cerberus."

Garrus did not miss her changing it; he had said it was him, and she had made it about the whole crew. "Well, you're not alone now. I'm here."

"It is good to have a friend around." Shep smiled and lightly punched his arm.

_I get it already, friend, you don't have to keep hammering that point home._

"So what's on the schedule today, Shep? I hear we're going to the Citadel?"

"Breakfast first. Then I have to read those damn dossiers, figure out who we're picking up next. Hopefully, the rest of my prospective crew won't be having so many emergencies."

"I think that was a special Omega thing."

Shep nodded. "Come to breakfast with me?"

"I've already eaten. Besides, I have work to do here. You go ahead. I'll see you when we dock."

"Sure thing, buddy."

Garrus ground his teeth. _She's doing that on purpose. I'm sure she remembers every bit of yesterday's conversations; Shep doesn't forget things._

_Even so, she's being clear. You're her friend and nothing more._

#

Shepard sat trying to read the dossiers off her omni-tool while still shoveling her huge, doctor-ordered breakfast into her face. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until she sat down with her tray. She had no idea what was in those shots, but she knew they made her ravenous while they were building muscle.

Shep couldn't keep track of all the names in the files, and eventually gave up. She would have EDI remind her who they were picking up on the Citadel. If they'd be ready….

"EDI," she barked into her omni-tool.

_"Yes, Commander."_

"Make sure anyone we're picking up in or around Citadel space will be ready when we arrive."

_"Yes, Commander."_

Shepard finished her meal and thought about her plans until they docked. She'd already eaten, she was too full to hit the gym, and she was still trying to rebuild every bit of atrophied muscle in her.

_Think I should probably walk the ship. Check in on people._ She thought longingly of her bed, but she'd slept enough. Besides, almost the entire crew owed their allegiance to a terrorist organization. It wouldn't do to forget that.

#

After walking the ship, Shepard ended up in the cockpit. Garrus had found her just before they docked, and was now following about two feet behind her wherever she moved. Shepard considered telling him to quit the guard dog routine, but decided to drop it. He might have video of her acting like a drunken asshole, after all; he had the damn visor on all the time.

Shep turned her thoughts back to her Cerberus crew. There was something about them, but she wasn't sure what. She didn't trust them, certainly, and some of them seemed to openly dislike her. Why were they here, then?

_Let's find out._

Shepard hit the button for the intercom, and knew her voice would be carried to every soul on the ship.

"Attention crew. This is Commander Shepard. Looking over our schedule, I see we have time for a short liberty." This was untrue; Shep didn't have anything like a schedule, just some vague objectives. She knew, though, that Anderson had always appeared to have everything under control, no matter how unimportant. Shep waited for the faint cheers to die down before continuing. "As such, I am granting you all six hours. It is now about to be twelve hundred hours. The _Normandy _will be shoving off again at eighteen hundred hours. Anyone not on the ship will have to find another ride off the Citadel."

Shepard paused again, to make sure no one would miss the next part. "There will be no penalty for desertion if you don't make it back in time."

"The Captain has spoken!" Joker shouted into the intercom.

#

Garrus followed Shep as she left the cockpit. "You realize you're giving everyone permission to desert, right?"

"I have some questions. This'll get me answers. Besides, anyone who's not up for this is an opportunity for us to get killed. You really want them on board?"

Shepard and Garrus wove through every crewman on the ship, it seemed. Everyone was scrambling, determined to get their full six hours off-ship. Once Shep and Garrus hit the elevator, they were able to move without pushing through people.

"I thought we were leaving?" Garrus asked as Shep pressed the button for her cabin.

"I need my armor. Just in case."

"Are you expecting trouble?"

Shepard just looked at him.

Garrus shook his head. "Right, no, stupid question. Forget I asked."

Garrus waited in the hall while Shep changed into her undersuit and strapped on armor. A moment later, she was back, and they were on their way.

"Garrus?" Shep said in the elevator. Garrus looked at her, unsure of her tone.

"You were right," she said. "I can't be nice to the Cerberus crew, so don't ask. But I will make more of an effort." Shepard glared hard at the floor.

_Spirits, what a simple apology costs her. Not that she's ever actually uttered the word "sorry."_

"I shouldn't have said anything," he told her.

"No. I need you to kick my ass when I deserve it. Can't trust anyone else to do it."

Garrus wondered at this level of trust. He couldn't remember Shepard ever having asked anyone for direction, outside of an assigned mission.

"All right, Shep."

"Spar later?"

"Definitely."

"EDI," Shep barked into her omni-tool. "Who've we got on the Citadel?"

_"Kasumi Goto, a master thief. She will be ready for you and waiting in the docking area. The passphrase is 'Silence is golden."_

"A thief? Why do we need a thief?" Garrus asked.

"Who knows?" Shep asked, leaving the elevator and heading for the door. "Let's just grab her and get back to the Council and the Alliance. Anderson will be waiting."

Garrus gritted his teeth, remembering how badly he'd embarrassed himself the last time he'd seen Anderson. He had been mourning Shep, and Anderson had seen him as low as he'd ever been. However, skipping Anderson meant leaving Shep without backup on the Citadel, and there was no way he could trust her not to get killed the second she was out of his sight. He would just have to hope that Anderson kept his tongue.

#

The docking areas were just as Shep remembered them. Dozens of people moved and talked, comprising every species she knew and some she didn't.

"Citadel hasn't changed," Garrus said.

_Not much,_ she agreed. Security looked a little tighter, though; she could hear a new arrival arguing about a weapon he insisted on carrying inside. A geth invasion tended to put C-Sec on their guards.

"Commander Shepard." Eight-foot tall pillars that worked as vidscreens called her name, tailoring advertising to her genetic code, reading it off scans. She growled a little. She had forgotten how irritating they were.

"Commander Shepard, say the passphrase and win a prize."

Shepard glanced at Garrus, and made her way over to the ad that was addressing her. Garrus placed himself between her and the crowds; the ads could talk to you, but no one trusted the person who spoke back.

"Passphrase, Commander Shepard?" The avatar on the screen was a smiling, slight Japanese woman wearing a red hood.

"Silence is golden."

Kasumi Goto landed almost silently behind Shepard, and the three moved further into the shadows.

"You're Kasumi? Or do you prefer Goto-san?" Shep asked.

"Oh, I'm not that old-fashioned. Kasumi's fine." Her voice was lilting, pleasant. Shepard wondered if she did most of her thieving by just asking nicely for people's credit chits.

"Welcome aboard. Go ahead and get settled on the ship. We shove off in six hours."

"Oh, my things are already on board. I'll tag along, if you don't mind. Get a feel for how you work before we're actually on mission."

Shepard nodded, and Kasumi turned to Garrus.

"You're a big one." Kasumi extended her hand, and Garrus shook it.

"Garrus Vakarian," he offered.

"Garrus? Or do you prefer Vakarian-san?"

Mandibles twitched. "I'm not that old-fashioned, either."

Shepard felt her muscles un-tense a little. At least she wasn't going to have trouble between her new thief and old ex-cop.

"So, I assume the Illusive Man told you about my mission? He said you'd help me with it. Part of my fee," Kasumi said.

"No. No, he didn't."

"Don't worry. It won't take long, just picking up an item for an old friend." Kasumi caught Shepard's look. "We can discuss it later, though."

"Great."

"Shall we?" Kasumi asked, placing her arm on Garrus's. He looked at Shep, but she only shrugged, keeping her amusement to herself and moving out. Garrus fell in behind her, for all intents and purposes escorting the tiny Japanese thief.

#

Security alarms blared as Shepard approached and a young C-Sec officer held up a hand.

"I didn't do it," Kasumi said quickly.

_That doesn't bode well._ Shep looked at Garrus. Now it was his turn to shrug, a gesture he'd picked up from her. It didn't quite work on turians.

"Hang on, hang on," the C-Sec officer muttered. Shepard waited while he called it in. "You're going to have to see my supervisor. Head inside. Captain Bailey. He'll set you up."

Once inside, they overheard a conversation they would have preferred to miss.

"You'll have to make him scream a little." The speaker was a thick-middled human, blonde hair kept in a crewcut.

"C-Sec has changed," Garrus said quietly.

_Sorry about that, buddy. They made a big mistake letting you get away._

"Are you Bailey?" she asked Crewcut.

"Yeah. And you're the one setting off my alarms." He typed something into his console, then chuckled. "Well, I see the problem. The system thinks you're dead, Commander Shepard." Bailey looked up to see the Stare. "But, you know, you're clearly not, so I'll just tag you in the system to be corrected, and you should be able to move around the station without being hassled."

"Thanks." Shep started to leave, but he called her back.

"You might think about checking in with your old friends on the Presidium."

_No, I thought I'd do a little shopping, and not have my status and expenditures reinstated so I can get away from Cerberus._

"Headed there now. Was there anything else?"

"No, no." Captain Bailey found his paperwork suddenly fascinating. "Don't want to keep you."

#

A shuttle took them quickly to the Presidium, and Shepard led them past embassies and offices to where Udina's old office had been. Anderson was supposed to be a councilor now, and he should be somewhere in the human's block of offices.

"Kasumi? We do need to speak to the councilors, so if you could just avoid any… ah, tactical appropriations, that would be nice." Shep watched the faked surprise on the little thief's face.

"Commander, I'm a professional, not some klepto."

"Where'd you get the drink?" Shep gestured to the FroYowie cup in Kasumi's hand.

"I found it," Kasumi replied archly. Shep waited, and Kasumi caved. "Oh, all right. I won't steal anything here."

"When did you even do that? You've been holding on to me the entire time," Garrus whispered as Shepard found the door with Anderson's name on it.

"Enter," came Anderson's voice. He smiled as Shepard stepped through the doorway, crew right behind her.

"Shepard, it really is you. I wasn't sure."

"Anderson." Shepard stepped forward to shake his hand, noting that her old captain looked well. Good; she hadn't been sure about suggesting him for councilor, but she certainly hadn't trusted Udina with it.

"Vakarian." Anderson nodded at Garrus. He glanced to Shepard, then raised an eyebrow at Garrus. Garrus shook his head "no." Shepard's eyes shot back and forth, following this exchange.

"What's going on?" she demanded. "I don't like being left out."

"The Council meeting is about to start," Anderson said, ignoring the question. "I assumed you'd come right here. Is this woman trusted?" He indicated Kasumi.

"She's on my crew. What was that look you gave him?"

"She can stay, then. I have to log in for the meeting." Anderson entered his credentials and the familiar holograms for the turian, asari, and salarian councilors coalesced. Shepard shot a look to Garrus demanding explanation, but he was studiously avoiding looking at her.

"Commander Shepard. We've heard many rumors. Your return was unexpected. Some rumors… unsettling." The councilor kept the typical salarian speech patterns, but was careful to speak slowly enough for the other races on the council to keep up.

"We agreed to this meeting to allow you to explain yourself. You saved our lives in the Battle of the Citadel. We do owe you that much." The asari councilor's voice was liquid butter. Shepard didn't buy it.

"I was brought back by Cerberus, in order to find out why human colonists are disappearing in the Terminus systems. It appears to be the work of a group called the 'Collectors.' As an added bonus, they appear to be working with the Reapers."

"Your colonists knew the risks when they settled there. The Terminus systems are beyond our jurisdiction." The turian councilor looked as though he felt this meeting was a waste of time. Personally, Shepard agreed. She had hoped it wouldn't be like this.

"You're missing the important part," Anderson interjected. "The Reapers are involved. That makes this everyone's problem."

"Ah, yes; 'Reapers.' The immortal race of sentient starships allegedly waiting in dark space. We have dismissed that claim."

_Did the turian councilor just make air quotes at me?_ Shepard didn't know what she had expected, but it wasn't that.

"Go back to Ilos and speak to Vigil," she argued. "Or just look at the remains of Sovereign. The attack on the Citadel was more than just Saren and geth."

"The hologram on Ilos is no longer functional. If it ever was. Sovereign was a geth construction. No reason to believe otherwise." The salarian councilor looked as though he was embarrassed on Shepard's behalf.

_Shit. I was warned they were suppressing this. Guess I didn't realize how hard they were trying. No reason to listen to them spew the rest of their crap, though._

"If you're unwilling to listen to my explanations, then I'm unsure just how productive this meeting can be."

Anderson sighed beside her, but she thought she could hear Garrus chuckling and Kasumi giggling across the room.

"Commander Shepard, you are putting us in a difficult position. You are working with Cerberus, an avowed enemy of the Council. That amounts to treason, a capital offense."

_Told you that butter wouldn't really melt._

"That's too far," Anderson roared. "Commander Shepard is a hero, and you know it. I'm on this council, too, and I won't let this whitewash continue."

"Maybe there is a compromise," the asari councilor said.

_There. Now can we finally skip to the part where you just tell me what you've already decided?_

"Commander Shepard," the asari councilor said, "we obviously cannot offer you any visible support, while you're working with Cerberus."

"If you restrict your activities to the Terminus systems and keep out of sight, the Council is willing to reinstate your status as Spectre," the turian councilor continued.

"How gracious of you." Shepard fought to keep her tone neutral.

"Welcome back, Spectre. We look forward to seeing you again once you have concluded your association with Cerberus." The asari pressed a button, and all three holograms disappeared.

Shep turned on Anderson. "You don't think you could have warned me I was about to get ambushed?"

"Shep," Garrus warned. Shepard took a deep breath.

"That went better than I expected," Anderson said mildly. "You'll have your authority again, and freedom to stop the Collectors, and the Reapers."

"I was looking for a ship and expenses to get away from Cerberus."

"I can't swing that, councilor or no. Just do your duty, Shepard. You know that."

"Yeah. I know." Shepard sighed, ran a hand through her hair.

"I see you got that armor Joker ordered. Sorry I couldn't send one with the logo on it." Anderson smiled.

"That was you? Thanks. Speaking of logos, where would I go to get the rest of my gear? Every damn thing on the ship has 'Cerberus' stamped on it."

"Head to the supply depot. I'll call ahead for you with authorization. You remember where it is?"

"Sure do."

"Then you might want to go now. Udina's just messaged me that he's on his way for the meeting we've already finished."

Shepard grimaced, then hurried for the door, her team falling in behind her.

"Is that the way things usually go here?" Kasumi asked.

"You should see them when their Udina's here," Garrus told her. "That one shouts to get his way."

"Oh, and we're missing him."

Shepard let her crew chat without her for the time being; she just wanted to get out of the Presidium before Udina arrived. Where to first? She needed clothes. She could use some food that wasn't ship food… which reminded her.

"Lawson." The omni-tool lit up as Lawson responded.

"Yes, Commander?"

"Did Mess Sergeant Gardner get you that list of supplies he needed?"

"Yes, Commander."

"Good. While you're at it, would you pick up something dextro-based for our turian friend? Something more than his equivalent of bread and water?" There was a pause.

"Sure, Commander."

"Thank you, Shep." Garrus looked absurdly pleased.

"It's not for you. I need to kick someone's ass across the ship today, and I don't want you whining you're too tired and hungry to fight."

"Touching."


	17. Mindoir

Chapter Seventeen

Mindoir

Shepard wandered the wards for a while. Soon enough, she would have to pick up some clothing from the depot. For now, she wanted to just pretend that this was really R&R.

_Well, why not? I get a six, too, don't I?_

A shop caught her eye and she paused, Garrus and Kasumi walking a little past her before doubling back.

"Shepard? What's up?" he asked.

In response, Shep entered the shop. Garrus dropped Kasumi's arm to follow Shep, looking around the shop. "You're getting fish?" he asked in disbelief.

"Why not? I've got the tank covering half my wall."

"Never saw you as a fish person."

The dusky-blue asari clerk looked up, sensing the opportunity for a sale. She started to speak, and then couldn't for a moment.

"Goddess, you're Commander Shepard, aren't you?" she breathed.

"Yeah. I guess I'm looking for some fish? What kind do you have?"

"All kinds. Commander Shepard, would you be willing to do an endorsement for us? I can offer a discount. Just talk into the mic. Say your name and that we're your favorite store on the Citadel."

"I don't know that, though. I haven't been to all the shops, and I haven't been here at all in two years."

The clerk look taken aback, and Garrus chuffed at Shep. "Shepard, don't you know how advertising works? Just say what she wants, and you'll get your discount."

"Please? It would help business so much," the asari pleaded.

Shepard leaned over into the microphone. "I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite store on the Citadel." The clerk squealed while Garrus shook his head.

"You can at least make it sound convincing," he chided her.

"No, this is fine. No one wants to hear Commander Shepard all chirpy. Here, let me pick some fish out for you. These are good. And these won't fight." The asari clerk moved around the shop, gathering various fish into little plastic baggies and calling out instructions on their care.

_I seriously doubt I'm going to remember all that. I'll have to look it up on the extranet when I get back to the ship._

"Are you having these delivered?" the clerk asked.

"Yeah. That'll be fine. For Shepard, on the _Normandy._ How much?"

"No, no charge. We'll do thousands on extra business this month alone, from your endorsement."

"Okay… thanks." Shepard escaped the shop, with Garrus laughing close behind her. Kasumi waited outside, eating a soft pretzel and holding a balloon shaped like a varren; its string was cut suspiciously short.

"Found those?" Shep asked.

"Of course. Although I don't see how you can object. I didn't see you pay for all the fish you just picked out."

"I'm going to start pretending I'm not Commander Shepard, when people ask," she grumbled.

"Where to next?" Garrus asked.

"I need something to eat. Then clothes. I think that's it. I know I need pants and shirts, but I want to try to find some underwear, too. Even the panties on the _Normandy_ are marked Cerberus. Then, maybe…." She looked around. "Where did Garrus go?"

Kasumi smirked. "I think you lost him somewhere around 'panties,' Commander. That's okay, though. I can shop."

"With actual credit?"

"Really, Commander, these constant accusations are getting tiresome already," she mumbled, her mouth full of stolen pretzel.

#

"Done yet?" Shep asked. Kasumi had dragged her to every place on the Citadel, it seemed. Shepard rubbed her forehead, trying to convince the headache that was brewing there to just leave.

_Or, _I_ could just leave, instead._

"I'm almost done, Commander. Just picking out a few things." Kasumi stopped short, her arms full of clothes. "Commander, are you all right? Your nose is bleeding."

Shep touched the back of her hand to her face. Sure enough, she was bleeding.

_Only a little._

"Commander, perhaps you'd better head back to the ship. Relax a little."

"Yeah, probably. You'll be fine here?"

"I can take care of myself." Kasumi grinned. Shepard nodded, trusting her at her word. She needed to get a shower and a nap, in that order. She checked the time; still a few hours before she'd need to check in on her crew.

_I should tell Garrus I'm back at the ship._ Shepard blinked. She didn't remember walking all the way back; where had it all gone? Vision blurred, she made her way through the empty ship, sinking to the floor as soon as she was in her cabin.

_The damn shutters are open. I told EDI to close them. Shit, she won't be here. She'll be on the Citadel, watching Joker. Wait, that's not right._

Shep tried to call for EDI to close the shutters again, and found she was mute. She at least needed to get out of her armor and into her rack. She was just so tired, though, and the pounding in her head sounded like either krogan music, or krogan sex.

Shep tried and failed to get up, fatigued and aching muscles refusing to support her. She started crawling toward the bed, the sound of her armor dragging along the floor like gravel being scraped across her brain. She stopped halfway there, trying to identify another sound. She almost couldn't hear it; if it weren't for the migraine, she probably wouldn't. She held still, listening.

_That's the sound of the lakes at spring thaw._ She remembered, back before the attack on Mindoir-

_No. _That's right, no Mindoir. As far as she was concerned, she'd never even been there, let alone grown up there. She tried to figure out where the sound would be coming from, and her attention was drawn to the giant window covering one wall of her cabin. Outside was the familiar carpet of black, sparkling jewels strung across it.

Shep watched in horror as a tiny hairline crack grew, reaching out toward the center of the glass. Once there, it spiderwebbed, sending feelers out to every edge.

Shepard turned, trying to crawl back toward the door. All she had to do was get through it; the ship would automatically seal it once it registered that the window was open to the vacuum.

_Call it in. _She tried again to shout for EDI. Her voice remained stubbornly absent. She reached the door and it slid open. She got one hand on the doorframe when she registered the change in tone from the glass cracking behind her. She yanked hard, trying to get herself through the door before it was too late. Then the glass shattered, the vacuum ripping her away from the door, from safety.

Shep tried to grab the edge of the window on the way by, and was only able to cut her hand on a remaining shard. She spun wildly, but had no leverage or momentum to get back to the ship. She hadn't worn a helmet. She should have worn a helmet.

The panic of no-breath settled into just pressure on her chest.

_Not so bad. Certainly not as bad as last time._

The pressure increased, and now Shep could feel it all around her. In the distance, someone was screaming.

_Mama?_ She didn't dare look up. She was surrounded on all sides by corpses. She had crawled into a pile of bodies to get away. If she moved, they would find her. Mama had said, "hide." She had told her to run and hide, and not come out until the Alliance was here. The monsters with too many eyes were everywhere. They'll kill you if they find you.

She couldn't stand not seeing. She worked her way toward the edge of the pile, careful to remain hidden.

The monsters were taking people away. No grownups; grownups ended up in the piles, or scattered. The monsters were taking children. She trembled, hoping they wouldn't find her. The monsters were walking her direction, and she froze. Could they see her? It wasn't safe to move, but if they saw her, what would happen? Tears made clean tracks through the dirt on her face. She was supposed to be in school, and then later Mama would make her a peanut butter and jelly and soup.

_For all us Musketeers._ She wondered where the other two of them were. Two thirds of herself was missing, and she didn't know where those sisters were.

The monsters with the eyes stopped at another pile of bodies. She couldn't see what they were doing, but a moment later she smelled it. Sickening smoky sweetness, like barbeque when Papa did it. He always burned things, and Mama laughed with him.

The monsters were coming for her pile, now. They were going to set it on fire. They were going to set her on fire. If she stayed hidden she would die. What would happen if she moved? She smelled something sharp as the monsters poured something on the bodies around her. She tried to fight her way through to the other side, but it was getting warmer. So much warmer. She fought now in earnest, but something had her ankle. She was caught, and they were going to burn her up.

_Mama, help me._

_"Cooommander Shepard? Hello?"_ Joker's voice over the intercom was welcome as Shep startled awake, lying in full armor by the door. The shutters were closed, she noted. It wouldn't have been a starscape, anyway; they were still docked, weren't they?

"Joker, what?" She sat up slowly, still trembling. Her face was wet, from either sweat or tears. She thought about that shower she had wanted.

_"There you are. We're ready to shove off, just waiting for the order."_

"Who failed to check in?" Shep sat up, trying to convince her shaken body to undo all the clasps and buckles that kept her armor on.

_"No one. Everyone on the payroll is on board, including the new girl."_

_Figures._

"Then shove off. Pick a destination." She found her feet, headed into the bathroom. "Garrus?" she asked her omni-tool.

_"Shep?"_

"You still up for a spar?"

_"Sure thing, Commander."_

"Ten minutes," she told him, then started the water and got into the shower.

_Ten minutes, Shep. You have ten minutes to get your shit together._


	18. That Dress

Chapter Eighteen

That Dress

Shepard almost tripped over Yeoman Chambers as she exited her room. The young yeoman was seated on the floor, holding a bag of fish and surrounded by packages.

"Commander? These all came for you."

"Fish in the tank, please?" Shepard started pushing bags and boxes with her feet, not caring to get anything put away as long as everything made it into the room. "What's that?"

Chambers looked at her arm, then offered the box she was holding to Shepard.

"From Officer Vakarian," Chambers said. It was a box of Marshmallow Bears, her favorite nutrition-free breakfast. She had been eating those when she had first met Garrus, back on the Citadel.

_Why would he even remember something like that?_

"Commander? If you want, I could come in here every day and feed these guys for you?"

Shepard glared at the yeoman. "After you're done there, you can leave my cabin and not come back in it."

"Yes, ma'am." Chambers hurried as best she could without dropping any fish, then scurried away.

_Thinks she can come into my cabin whenever she likes? I don't think so. At least she got my N7 clothes here. I can change, finally._

#

"You ready for this?" Shep asked Garrus, storming into the sparring room.

"Were the Marines having a sale?" He gestured to her new clothing.

"Huh? Oh. I told you, I'm not wearing another stitch marked Cerberus. Every single thing is now Alliance-issue, down to my-"

"Yes, yes, I remember."

_If that woman gives me one more update on the status of her underclothes…._

"So, no one left," she told him, reaching down to touch her toes.

"Beg pardon?" Garrus ran through his own stretches. He knew she was pissed today; he'd have to be at his best.

"The crew. You said I was giving them permission to desert. They all stayed." She glowered.

"And now you're angry that none of them abandoned their post. You think it's significant?" He jogged in place lightly, watching Shep swing her arms.

"I have to check something, but I have my suspicions." She dropped into a half-crouch, and Garrus readied himself.

"What do you think you're doing?" Kasumi asked from the doorway. Her arms were full of packages wrapped in brown paper.

"What?" Shep looked confused.

"Commander, we have a party to get to tonight."

"Party?"

"I told you there was a mission. We need to retrieve an item, as I said. It's at a party being hosted by Donovan Hock."

"Hock?" Garrus bristled. Hock was one of the biggest crime-lords in the galaxy, but he had never strayed close enough to civilized areas to be brought in. "Big prey."

"Big prey indeed. We're going there?" Shep asked.

"Yes. Now take that off. You need to change, now. We're already on our way. Give me that. Get out of it." Kasumi fought with Shepard's clothing, and Garrus turned away, disappointed to miss seeing Shep struggle with someone who was finally a match for her, personality-wise.

"I should go," he mumbled.

"No, stay," Kasumi ordered. "We'll need a man's opinion." Garrus glanced to see Kasumi pulling at Shepard's sleeveless top, then quickly looked away again.

_I think that might stick in my memory. Forever. _He could still hear Kasumi and Shep arguing, and the soft floomp as each piece of clothing hit the floor.

"Commander, you need to cooperate. You can't go like this."

"I don't think I need to wear that. I never wear things like that."

"That's the point. If you look like Commander Shepard, you'll get us both killed. Your name is Alison Gunn. You're a running a gang of mercs; smuggling operations, mostly. Remember that."

"Give those back," Shep roared.

"My, you're a real redhead, aren't you? Put these on instead."

_Real redhead? What does that mean? _Garrus wondered.

"Why do I need fancy underwear, too? No one will see it."

"In case you have to seduce Hock," Kasumi said reasonably.

Garrus's vision went blue for a moment, until Shep answered.

"That won't be happening. Would you please stop doing that? Awfully personal."

_What is she doing?_

"Grow up, Commander Shepard. I have all the same parts. …Maybe not as nice as yours."

_That's it, I'm dying. This is what kills me._

"Yes, but I'm not touching any of your 'parts,'" Shep snarled.

"Well, I need to get them up there."

"You most certainly do not."

"That's how the dress works, Commander."

_I have got to see this dress. _Garrus peeked, but she was only wearing about half the dress. Her top half was partially covered with some kind of violet and black lacy thing, just on the human bits. He turned away again, mandibles tucking in.

_Shouldn't have looked, Vakarian._

"There," Kasumi said finally. "Garrus, turn around. What do you think? Make sure she puts on her shoes and all the jewelry. Commander, I will get your armor ready to go. Be ready in five. Do you need help applying your makeup?"

"I'm fine." Shep's voice was acid. He was glad it wasn't directed at him. She turned on him as Kasumi left. "See what happens when you make me act nice to people?"

"I didn't tell you to act _that _nice." Her glare intensified, and he cast wildly for something else to say. "You, uh… look good?" She did. She was wearing a skintight black leather dress, cut both low at the top and short at the bottom. He could see nearly all of her. "You look different, outside of your armor."

Shepard's face was crimson, and he tried to figure it out. Was that embarrassment, or rage? Knowing Shep, it was probably both.

"I think she wanted you to put your shoes on," he mumbled. Shep glared again, bending over to reach for her shoes.

_Oh, dear spirits, they bounce._

"I hope Hock doesn't try to seduce _you,_ dressed like that," Garrus said.

"I will end your life."

Garrus shrugged that off as she fought with the thin straps of the shoes, securing the impractical things to her ankles.

"I can't run in these, I'm off balance."

"I don't think you're supposed to be running in them." _Standing at a bar in them. Lying down, maybe. Not running. _He picked up the makeup bag Kasumi had left, holding it for her.

"I'm not wearing all of that," she muttered. She grabbed the lipstick, applying it carefully. Garrus watched, unable to look away.

Shep kept rummaging through the bag. "Score, bobby pins. Hold the mirror up."

Obediently Garrus held the mirror for her, electricity shooting through him when she touched him to adjust its angle. She carefully pinned back half her hair, letting the other half curl near her face. She looked like one of the stars of those old human vids, the black and white ones. The look was almost complete as she added the necklace and ear-jewelry Kasumi had left. Almost.

_She's going to kill you if you mention it. You know that._

"Shep, your, ah… your posture."

"What about it?" she snapped.

"You're still standing like a soldier."

"You don't think I can pull this off, do you?"

_Pull it off? That must be an idiom I'm missing._

Shepard gave him a hard smile and shifted her shoulders and feet slightly. In an instant she had transformed from battle-hardened soldier to asari consort.

_The classy, expensive kind,_ he amended.

"You will be waiting right here when I get back." She poked his chest with one finger. "I already needed a spar, and this getup isn't improving my mood."

"Sure, Shep, no problem," he told her as she walked away.

_Dear spirits, look at her hips sway. Never noticed human women sway like that before. Sure, I'll stay here. Not like I'm in any condition to work now anyway. I'd probably blow the damn ship up just trying to tweak the output. Spirits, that damn dress. _Garrus lay down on the floor, hoping he'd be able to calm himself by the time she came back.


	19. The Party

Chapter Nineteen

The Party

Shepard tugged at her hem, trying to get it to stay down.

"Commander Shepard, stop playing with that. This is a society party. You can't look like a child who hates dresses." Kasumi was piloting an air car toward the ridiculous "mission" she had roped Shep into.

_I do hate dresses. Why can't I look like it? _"You wanna tell me what we're doing here at some point?"

"Of course, Shepard. We're going to a party hosted by Donovan Hock. Anyone who's anyone in organized crime will be there, paying tribute to the man himself. You're going as Alison Gunn, as I've said. I've been planting stories about you, eyewitnesses, an article in Badass Weekly, that sort of thing."

"How long have you known I was coming back?"

"A fair while." Kasumi smiled. "Now listen, Hock is dangerous. He's also rich and charismatic, and won't hesitate to crack a man's skull open to get to the neural implants. But you look like that, so just avoid talking business, and I'm sure he'll be much too busy to realize you don't belong. Here." Kasumi tossed a glass bottle to Shep, who fumbled it a few times before catching it.

"They didn't mention you were clumsy," Kasumi muttered.

"It's temporary. What is this, anyway?" The glass bottle was full of a clear blue liquid, and she didn't understand the markings on it.

"It's just perfume. You'll need it." Kasumi waited until Shep sprayed some before continuing. "It's a turian perfume that works well with human biochemistry. Drives turian men wild. …You might want to spritz a bit more on before we return to the _Normandy."_

Shepard fought to keep her face neutral. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, don't worry about me, Commander. I'm no gossip." She looked at Shepard, then shrugged. "But, if you want to claim ignorance, that's fine, too."

Shepard shoved the bottle into the tiny purse Kasumi had given her, pretending not to notice the thief's smirk.

"So, what's the plan?" Shep asked.

"Simple. Our present to this glorious bastion of murder and mayhem is a statue of your old pal Saren. It's filled with our armor and weapons, and it will be taken straight to Hock's high security vault. Once we find a way into it, we're golden. You can keep your pistol, by the way." Kasumi tossed a tiny pistol in its holster to Shep's lap.

"Where am I supposed to hide this?"

"Commander Shepard, that's a thigh holster. I'm surprised at you; you really are out of your element here, aren't you? Just try not to walk as though you're wearing it. They won't hassle you for a handgun, but better to keep polite."

Shepard braced her foot against the dash to try to get the thing strapped on. It had to go high, or it would show, as short as the dress was.

"So classy," Kasumi said.

"Just getting the damn thing on," Shep grunted. Finally armed, Shep closed her legs again. _This fucker's gonna be painful before too long._

Hock's mansion fortress appeared in front of them, and Kasumi slowed.

"Almost there. Any questions before we head into this den of mass murderers and assorted unsavories?"

"Are there slavers there?"

Kasumi pulled the light air car around, moving away from Hock's estate.

"You listen to me, Shepard. Whatever personal problem you have with slavers is just that, a personal problem. It doesn't belong on my mission."

"I think you're forgetting who's in command here." Shep tried to bristle, but it was impossible to look imposing in that dress.

"I most certainly am not. Part of my fee for this mission is the greybox. Until we get it, you are not, in any way, my boss." Kasumi's face was flushed; she looked close to tears.

"What the hell is in that greybox?"

"An important secret. Something that could destroy the Alliance's status with the Council. And aside from that, every memory my partner Keiji thought was important enough to keep." She trembled lightly as she spoke.

"Now who's making it personal?" Shep grumbled.

"It's my mission. I can make it personal if I want."

"Fine. Just don't make it so personal that you get us both killed."

Kasumi nodded, swinging the car back around. She landed and hopped out easily. Shepard struggled with a way to get out without flashing anyone. After a minute, she gave up on modesty. There wasn't anyone on her side of the car, anyway.

Guards in formal attire screened visitors at the entrance. Shepard saw the shimmering, gold Saren statue being lowered carefully to the ground as the guards scanned it.

"Hold on a minute," the guard said. He whacked the scanner into the palm of his hand, then scanned again.

"Is there a problem here?"

"That's Hock," Kasumi whispered, indicating the South African speaker. "Introduce yourself."

"Alison Gunn," Shepard said, holding her hand out to shake. Hock ignored it as Kasumi sighed from behind Shep.

"Sir, there's a problem with the scanner. It won't pick anything up on the statue."

"I'm sure it's fine. I have nothing to worry about from invited guests." Hock smiled at Shep, and she noticed the smile didn't change the cold expression in his eyes. "Welcome to the party, Miss Gunn. You've made quite a name for yourself recently. I'm afraid your associate will have to wait outside, however."

"Why should my assistant wait outside?" Shepard asked.

"I don't like the look of her. And I'm certain she received no invitation." He turned to the guard. "Invited guests only," he said, then left to go inside.

Shepard walked a few steps away from the guards to speak to her "assistant."

"What's the issue, Kasumi?"

"No idea. I'm sure he doesn't know my face. I'm not that careless."

Shepard sighed. "Fine. I can handle this alone."

"Don't be such a pessimist. I'll be close by, and we'll keep in radio contact. Just get inside and find the vault." Kasumi checked to see no guards were watching, then activated her cloaking shields, disappearing right in front of Shep.

"That is impressive," Shep said.

#

Shepard moved around the party, wondering if she looked at all as though she belonged. Everywhere, the rich and established underground rulers of the galaxy stood in small clusters, talking and laughing about their crimes.

_Keep it together, Shep._

Shepard grabbed a glass of champagne from a tray as a waiter swooped by. She pretended to admire the expensive- _and tacky- _paintings and wall hangings that dominated the décor. She found herself in a library, full of actual, physical books and quickly turned around.

_No, thank you._

Shep wondered how many of these social elite dealt in slaves.

"_I've found the vault, Commander. Meet me downstairs," _Kasumi's voice said into her ear. Shep couldn't answer, in the middle of the party. She followed a wall until she came across a staircase, then hurried down.

"There you are."

Shepard's arm was grabbed by nothing and she was dragged into an alcove. Once inside the shadows, Kasumi decloaked.

"Did you get a good look?"

"You mean just now, when you yanked me in here?"

"The vault door is in the room across the hall. It has voice-encrypted password protection, a DNA scanner, not to mention an incredible set of shielding. Crime lord's favorite, three years running."

"Can you get into it, or not?" Shep asked.

"Please, Commander. Keiji could have done it in his sleep. I'm much better. I'll get you into his office. We should be able to find the password there. Then, we'll pick up some DNA from his bedroom, you can chat him up to get voiceprints, and lastly, we cut the power to the shielding. Easy-peasy."

"Yeah, sounds like a ball."

"Did you notice a locked door near the library?" Kasumi asked.

"Uh…." Shepard thought about it. "Yeah, I guess."

"That's his office. I'll get it open for you. Just… try to look like you belong. And stop standing like that, Commander, you're wearing a dress."

#

Shepard headed for the door Kasumi had identified as an office.

"_Just a sec, Shepard. I got this."_

Shep walked straight toward it, acting as though she expected it to open for her. _Look like you belong. Look like you belong. _Shep was almost at the door. It wasn't open yet.

"Kasumi?" she whispered. She was only a few steps from the door. In a moment, she'd either crash into it, or have to walk away as though she wasn't going for it.

"Kasumi!" she hissed.

"There it is. Relax, Commander." The door slid open just in time for Shepard not to break stride. She tried to walk around the gun that was digging into her inner thighs.

"Walk naturally," Kasumi ordered, decloaking next to her.

"I am trying." _I can't wait 'til someone tries to stop us, so I can take this thing off and start shooting. _She reached down to adjust, trying to find a more comfortable position for the pistol.

"Commander Shepard, stop that this instant." Kasumi was playing around in Hock's computer.

"I can fix it now, or when there are people around to see." _Stupid, stupid gun._

"Got the password." Kasumi bounced up and down a little. "'Peruggia,' do you believe it?"

"That's like a kolache, right?"

"It's the name of the man who stole the Mona Lisa. Good guess, though. Head for the bedroom. It'll be somewhere upstairs." Kasumi disappeared once more, leaving Shep to navigate the party alone.

Several guards milled upstairs, stationed in front of each door.

"Kasumi, bedroom's a no-go," Shep muttered.

"_I'll think of something. Go get Hock talking. We need his voice, still."_

Shepard sighed. She wasn't up for this heist bullshit. If she had been allowed to take her team and just start shooting, they'd be done by now. She absently drank some of her champagne, snagging an hors d'oeuvre as she passed another waiter. She approached Hock where he stood regaling his guests in front of a ridiculously huge and gaudy indoor fountain.

"And here she is," Hock said as she approached.

"_That doesn't sound good," _Kasumi said. Shepard smiled at Hock, taking his outstretched hand.

"I was telling my other guests about you. You're quite the up-and-comer."

"Thank you-" Shepard broke off as Kasumi spoke into her ear.

"_He's staring at your ass. Get him to let you into the bedroom."_

"But this is your party, Mr. Hock. I'm sure we'd all rather hear about you." Hock grinned, eager for the chance to talk himself up. His guests listened attentively. All but Shepard.

"_Oh, sure. Very sexy, Commander. Try a double entendre. He just called you an up-and-comer. Surely you can think of something, there."_

Shepard's eyes roved around the room. She was hoping to catch a glimpse of Kasumi to glare at her. She snapped back to attention when she realized Hock had stopped talking, and all the guests nearby were applauding. She gently tapped her open hand against the one holding the champagne glass. That was how you clapped at a fancy party, wasn't it?

"How very fascinating, Mr. Hock," she said.

"_For Christ's sake, Shepard, have you never hit on someone before?"_

"Take a walk with me?" Shep invited.

"Gladly." He offered his arm, then led her out onto the balcony. He muttered a brief command, and the henchmen-_cum_-waiters started politely escorting people indoors.

"_That's better. Play with your hair or something, too."_

Shepard twisted a curl close to her throat, watching Hock's eyes grow intense.

"_You've got him, Shepard. Keep it up."_

"A little privacy is nice, isn't it?" Hock asked.

"A lot of privacy could be even nicer," Shep said.

"_Really subtle, Commander." _Kasumi's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I don't do subtle," Shep said.

_Oh, shit, that was out loud._

"I see that you don't, Miss Gunn. Why don't we find somewhere very private, with a bed?"

"_I can't believe that worked. You must be hotter than I thought," _Kasumi mused.

"I assume you must have a bedroom somewhere in this palace?" Shep asked.

"Upstairs. Just tell the guards…" Hock leaned closer to whisper into her ear, "Peruggia." Shepard tried to mask her shudder as an anticipatory shiver.

"Don't be too long," she told him.

"_Shepard, why would you say that? I thought you'd want to get out of there before he catches you looking for DNA. Unless you'll be getting the sample the old-fashioned way."_

"Kasumi, I don't like this. He just gave me the password," Shep whispered, keeping her seductive smile plastered on her face. Or at least, she hoped it was a seductive smile.

"_Yeah, and it looks like he only uses the one. You'd think he'd have better security, wouldn't you?"_

"Peruggia," Shep told a guard. The guard snickered and let her into Hock's room. Kasumi appeared once the door was shut. Shepard took in the room in horror. Gold fabrics swathed the walls; couches and the giant bed were covered in exotic animal furs.

"Have you ever seen anything so ostentatiously awful?" Shep asked.

"You should see my bedroom, Commander," Kasumi said, winking.

_Did she just-?_

"And _that's_ how you do subtle," Kasumi said airily.

"Just get your DNA and let's go. This doesn't feel right." Shepard unstrapped the pistol from her inner thigh, waiting for the inevitable trouble. People like Hock didn't just give away passwords.

Kasumi moved around behind her and Shepard stood braced toward the door, waiting. Someone was going to come through there, and then would come the firefight.

"Okay, I'm ready. What are you telling the guards? They may notice you leaving before Hock's arrived."

Shepard hurriedly holstered her pistol again before she opened the door. The guard who was leaning on the other side nearly fell into her.

"Sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean-"

"It's fine," Shepard said. "Would you just tell Mr. Hock when he comes up that I'll need a few minutes?" The guard looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"And that if he has to wait, I'll make it up to him?" she added, trying out her seductive smile once more.

"_My goodness, you're getting better at this fast. You're practically purring."_

_Shut up, Kasumi._

"No problem, ma'am. I'll let him know." The guard was smiling back at Shep as she left, keeping her pace deliberate to allay suspicion.

"_You've got another fan. We should have that ass framed, I think."_

"Kasumi," Shepard growled. Out of sight of the guards, Shepard hurried down the stairs back to the vault. Kasumi was already there and sealed the first set of doors once Shepard was through them.

"Nice work, Commander. Go ahead and get your armor on. I've got this." Hock's voice said "Peruggia" while Shep grabbed her armor and weapons from the base of the Saren statue. Her shoulders sagged in relief now that she was able to get dressed properly again.

"Voice print confirmed. Welcome, Mr. Hock," the computer said.

"And now, the DNA swab," Kasumi sang.

"Leaving these damn shoes here," Shep muttered.

"Commander, for shame. Those were expensive."

"Did anyone actually pay for them?"

"I'll have you know, The Illusive Man sent the money for those when he forwarded your measurements."

"Yeah, but did you or did you not actually _pay_ for them?" Shep asked.

"I'm insulted, Commander. Of course I didn't pay for them."

"DNA scan confirmed. Welcome, Mr. Hock."

"And now, the power." Kasumi pressed a few buttons on her omni-tool. The lights flickered, then Kasumi opened the vault door. "And voila!"


	20. The Vault

Chapter Twenty

The Vault

"Look, Commander! It's the actual Mona Lisa," Kasumi exclaimed. "And here, this is Ming dynasty!" Shepard tried to take in the whole room. Nothing upstairs had prepared her for anything like it. A pair of pharaoh statues sat next to a sculpture of a yahg, a mysterious creature she'd only heard of in folklore. Turian tapestries sat side-by-side with asari paintings. They could spend all day in here.

_Like a damn museum._

"Commander Shepard, come quick. I think these are the actual Ten Commandments." Shepard ambled over, slow pace belying how impressed she was.

"Guess he missed the one about 'Thou Shalt Not Steal,'" she said.

"Oh, who cares? Why didn't I plan for this? I can't carry half of this out of here."

"Then maybe we should just grab what we came for?"

"Of course, you're right. Still…." Kasumi gave a longing look toward the stone tablets. "You don't know the price those would fetch." She typed into her omni-tool, and it started beeping. "This'll find the greybox." Shepard followed Kasumi as she tried to trace its location, listening for the beeps to get closer together.

"Oh, this is nice." Shepard stopped at another display.

"Commander Shepard, we don't have time to- oh, my, that's a Kassa Locust." Kasumi picked it up, then gasped. "No, this is _the_ Kassa Locust. The gun that killed two presidents. And there's a working replica, it looks like." Kasumi bit her lip, then offered the submachine gun to Shep. "You can keep the original, of course."

"And I'm supposed to believe you're actually giving me the original?" Shep said, taking it.

"Once again, you misjudge me. It'll be much more fun to switch them later, when you're not looking."

Shepard shook her head. "Grab the damn greybox."

Kasumi followed the beeping again, finally stopping at a mostly-empty display, a drive no bigger than a fist the only thing inside. "There it is," she whispered.

"Don't get weepy. Grab it so we can go."

"One moment. I'm sure it's secured."

Shepard wandered a bit while Kasumi did her tech magic. She reached out to touch a metal-wrought sculpture of a rachni worker.

_Shame the artist never saw a rachni queen._

"I've got it, Commander. Now the landing pad is just-"

"Well, well, well." Hock's oversized face appeared as a hologram, taking up most of one wall. "I thought that was you at the door, Miss Goto. I knew if it was really you, you'd find a way in. Now, why don't you just leave your own greybox behind for me, so I don't have to kill you to get it like I did your little boytoy?"

"Don't you dare talk about my Keiji that way!"

_See, too personal. _Shepard aimed her new Locust at an ancient earthenware vase. Pottery exploded in a cloud of dust.

"No!" Hock screamed.

"Gun works," Shep said.

"I'll kill you for that, Miss Gunn. Not before I spend a delightful evening finding out just who you really are. I want them both alive," Hock shouted as the door beneath his face opened and mercenaries streamed in.

_Eclipse,_ Shep saw. More than just his own private guard. _He must have been waiting for us the whole time. Wish I had Garrus here with me._

As it turned out, she didn't need him. Every time she moved out of cover to fire, she'd see Kasumi appear a dozen yards away from her last location, in no time at all. With the way Kasumi was popping around the room, she almost didn't need Shep there.

_There's no way she's full human. She's at least got tech implants, or something._

"This way, Commander. Landing pad." Kasumi rushed ahead, leading Shep through the private areas of Hock's mansion.

Shepard forced herself to keep up, thinking wistfully of the shots Chakwas had for her. She'd ask for another booster once they got back, she decided; hopefully get some of this fatigue worked out.

"Joker, bring the shuttle in," Kasumi ordered. Shep swore, but she'd let it slide. This time. If Kasumi tried that I'm-in-charge shit again, though, Shep would have her hide.

"Commander, up this way."

Shepard looked up to see Kasumi halfway up a service ladder, heading for the trapdoor to the roof. She glanced to make sure she was clear before she started climbing. Last thing she needed today was to get shot in the ass.

On the roof, Kasumi was clearing out the last of the mercenaries. Shepard got there in time to see the very last one drop.

"Joker, where are you?" Kasumi asked.

A familiar thrumming made Shepard's heart go cold.

"Negative, Joker, keep your distance," she shouted.

_Does every damn band of mercenaries have a goddamn gunship, or just the ones I keep running into?_

"Kasumi, down," she ordered.

"Oh, I've got this, Commander." Kasumi disappeared as the gunship began firing. Shep caught a glance of her running toward it. Another vanishing, then Shep saw Kasumi scrambling up some piping. One more disappearance, and Kasumi was leaping, arms spread wide, and she landed on the windshield of the gunship.

_How the hell?_

Kasumi's omni-tool activated, and the gunship stuttered in the air. With a final sarcastic salute to Hock, who was flying it, Kasumi flipped away from the ship, landing hard on the ground.

"Shields are down, Commander, take the shot." Shepard shot for Hock's face through the cockpit, satisfied to see the gunship appear to lose all control after she hit him. It drifted away to crash-land in the courtyard.

"Joker, are you there-" The explosion from the gunship cut her off. She tried again. "Joker, come in, we are ready for pickup."

"_Roger that, Commander."_ Shepard and Kasumi hurried to the landing pad as the shuttle dipped below the clouds. Cerberus personnel were there to help them in.

"Gun it," Shep said, not wanting to wait for the inevitable reinforcements to arrive. Shepard slumped to the floor of the shuttle, waiting to get back to the safety of the ship. After a few minutes, she dozed, not waking until they had docked.

#

"Kasumi?" Shep asked, entering the hold.

"_I love you, Kasumi. I am so, so sorry."_ Shepard looked at the hologram playing in the darkened hold, finding Kasumi crumpled in front of it.

"He wants me to destroy it," Kasumi whispered. Tears pattered onto her hands, folded in her lap.

"I'm sorry, Ka-"

"_I love you, Kasumi. I am so, so sorry."_

"It's all I have left of him, Shepard."

_Shit, what now? _Shepard shuffled forward until she was within reach, and patted Kasumi on the shoulder. _Yeah, that is never not awkward._

"_I love you, Kasumi. I am so, so sorry."_

"Does anyone know you have it, Kasumi?"

"You. Hock, but not anymore." Kasumi sniffled, wiping her face under the hood.

"Keep it, then. If you can keep it safe, just keep it. He won't know."

"_I love you, Kasumi. I am so, so sorry."_

"I'll go off the grid after your mission, Shepard. I promise. This won't come to light because of me."

"Fine, just… keep it quiet around the crew. You know Cerberus isn't above using this."


	21. That Dress, Part Two

Chapter Twenty-One

That Dress, Part Two

When Shep came back, she came straight to the sparring room. Garrus stood hurriedly; you shouldn't let Commander Shepard catch you lying down on the job.

_Not if I want to keep the other side of my face intact,_ Garrus thought.

Her hair was disheveled, half out of the bobby pins. The red curls were still entrancing, but now Garrus thought she looked like the star of a completely different kind of vid. Not only was the hair down, but the makeup was lightly smeared. The dress, too, had been partly torn, leaving the purple-and-lace to show though at one shoulder, and… where her curves started. Shepard caught his look and smiled slowly. Garrus swallowed hard.

"Were we sparring now, Shepard?"

"Might be something else we could do."

_Something else?_

Shepard walked toward him and leaned against his chest to slip first one, then the other shoe off of her delicate feet. Her back arched as she reached, thrusting those oh-so-human bits closer to his face. Once her shoes were off, she didn't move back, instead running her hands over his chest. Garrus wished he had already been ready for sparring; he needed to not be wearing his tunic right now.

_These are unmissable signals, Vakarian._ To be sure, he reached a talon out to hook the strap of her lace-thing, sliding it carefully back under the shoulder of her dress, brushing her skin gently as he did so.

"I think you're doing that the wrong way, cowboy."

_Shit, shit, shit._

"I think we're supposed to be taking those _off,"_ she purred. She pushed harder against him, raising up on her toes to kiss him, and his hands grabbed her waist. He had never been kissed by a human before; he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. While he was working that out, Shep moved his hands from her waist to her backside and kissing suddenly got a whole lot better as he gripped her there, holding her body tight against his.

"Unzip me," she breathed. Obediently, Garrus felt for the zipper along the back of the dress. He moved slowly so he didn't end up clawing her nearly-healed skin. Shep may not be Shep without scars, but she didn't need any that were his fault. As he pulled gently on the dress, Shep wriggled against him, sliding out of the leather sheath, somehow without ever losing contact with him.

Now in just her human under-things, Shepard slid herself across his body. She pulled roughly at the back of his neck, forcing him down to her height so that she could bite the base of his throat. Garrus growled lightly. He wasn't going to be able to draw this out much longer, if she wasn't careful.

Shepard stepped back slightly.

_Wait, what did I do wrong?_

But a moment later, she was lifting the edges of his tunic, trying to slide it over his head. It caught on his crest, tying his arms up with it. He struggled, and she giggled at him.

"No, leave it," she told him. "I have an idea."

With the shirt caught over his face, as well, he didn't see her sweep his legs. He landed hard on his back, but his protest was cut off by the feather-weight of Shepard lying on top of him. He had to get out of this shirt, he had to touch her. He started pulling at it, frantic to get loose, but she gently pushed his arms up to rest on the floor over his head.

"Keep it on, okay?"

_Of course, Shep. _It was such a simple request, wasn't it? And there was nothing he'd be unwilling to do for her. Besides, spirits, she was biting at his throat, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles with her human mouth all the way down his stomach to-

_Turian women do not do that._ He groaned, trying to sit up, trying to pull the shirt away to watch her. She pushed his chest back down, and continued her alien tricks on him.

"Shep," he growled. He knew the full depths of his desire were inaudible to her, caught as they were in his harmonics. He wished he could make her hear what she was doing to him.

_Oh, spirits, Shep, please…._

"Are you napping, Vakarian?"

_Oh, you have got to be kidding me,_ Garrus groaned silently, opening his eyes. He got slowly to his feet, cursing her bad timing. Her sudden arrival- and therefore interruption- left him with a pain in his gut that didn't quite want to let him straighten. Shepard, he saw, was in full armor, which she started unbuckling.

_Of course; did you really think she'd wear that other thing a second longer than she had to?_

"Shep, look, I'm not feeling well, so-"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Vakarian. Did you want me to tuck you into bed? I can bring you your stuffed varren and read you a story?"

Garrus snarled quietly. She wasn't going to cut him a break, was she?

Shepard managed to get her chest plate off, dropping it to the floor, and Garrus saw that she was still wearing the dress underneath. She started to unbuckle the armor pants, and he noticed that her dress had ridden up quite a bit, probably when she got into the armor.

_Almost to her waist. High enough to see her- dammit. _Garrus whirled around. _I did not need to see those._

"Could I get a hand, here?" Shep asked.

_No._

Garrus cautiously looked. She was wearing the entire dress now, at least.

"Come on, unzip me. Let's do this."

_Yes, let's. _He crept forward, as if afraid to frighten her away. She turned her back to him and he reached for the zipper. He drew it down slowly, unable not to watch as it revealed her back, the clasps of that lacy thing again, down to the waistband of the bottoms.

Shepard shrugged out of the dress, letting it fall. Garrus took a step back.

_Now? Is it really now?_

Shepard bent to pick up the pants she'd left there earlier, and Garrus snorted.

"What's up, Garrus?" Shep asked, turning toward him. He pointed his eyes quickly to the ceiling so he didn't have to see her… bouncy bits again.

"Nothing, nothing at all." _If she ever does finally say yes, I think I may end up killing her accidentally._

He listened to her getting dressed, keeping his eyes averted until he was reasonably sure she was decent again.

"You ready for this?" she asked.

_For a spar, Vakarian._

"I'm really not feeling well, Shep. Maybe some other time." He wasn't feeling well. The pain had settled like hot lead, not just painful, but distracting, as well.

"Are you pussying out on me, Vakarian?"

_Really, Commander, word choice._

"Fine, then. Come and get me." Garrus knew she was still weak. He'd embarrass her a little, take a couple of points off her, then leave.

His back slammed into the ground, Shepard landing on top of him.

_Or, I'll completely forget what I'm doing, and this will happen. _Garrus gripped behind her thighs before she could slide any lower on him. She pressed one soft arm against his throat.

_This is awkward._

"You're pinned, Vakarian. Give up?"

"You forget, Shep, with my height advantage, you haven't any leverage." He rolled and now he was pinning her. He grabbed her hands before they could hit the damaged mess of his face.

_Aaand, this is worse. Dear spirits, what is that scent? _He breathed deeply, trying to identify it. He drew it in through his mouth, rubbing the scent on the roof of it with his tongue. Was it perfume? He almost recognized it.

"Cede the point, Shepard," he growled. This was bad. She bucked underneath him and he bit back a groan.

"You're not strong enough to displace me, Shep, now cede the damn point," he barked.

"All right, point Vakarian. Are you okay?" Shep looked bewildered; Garrus knew he'd never gotten angry sparring with her before. He released her, and scrambled away, trying to put some distance between himself and the scent of her, the feel of her underneath him.

"I told you, I'm sick," he said, nearly sprinting for the door.

"Hey, come back, we're playing to ten."

"No, we're not, I'm going to bed," he yelled from the hall.

"What the hell is his problem now?" Shep muttered.

#

"Garrus, you awake?"

_Oh, spirits, what now?_

"I'm awake _now,_ Shep," he grumbled, checking the time. Middle of the damn night. What could she possibly want-

"Garrus, I need you. My cabin."

_No, Vakarian. She does not want that. You are forbidden from thinking that this time. We'll all getting sick of it._

_All? Spirits, I need uninterrupted sleep._ But his Shep was calling him. And he was already awake.

"Be right there, Shep."

#

As soon as Garrus knocked, the door to Shepard's cabin whooshed open. The metal shutters were still sealed, he saw, though he still didn't know why she needed them shut. Shepard was hunched over her computer screen.

"Come here. You see this?" she asked.

"What am I looking for?" Shep slid out of the chair, letting Garrus sit down. On the screen was a list of names, Archangel among them. "This your crew?" he asked.

"Sort of. Notice that Lawson and Taylor have dossiers, just like any other specialist?"

"Why wouldn't they?"

"Also, Chambers. Her own files, just like the rest of you."

Garrus rubbed his eyes. "Shepard, whatever you're getting at, you should probably just tell me. I'm too tired to play guessing games."

"Well, check this out." Shep leaned over him to type something, and another list of names popped up. "This is a list of everyone assigned to the ship at all. Look, this one got sick a week before launch. And this one just backed out at the last minute. They still have their names listed here, along with why they're not on board."

Garrus had the feeling that he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle, here. "You think there are other people who should be on the list, who aren't?"

"This one," Shep said, bringing up yet another list in her human gibberish. "This is everyone who was assigned to the Lazarus facility."

"Deceased, deceased, deceased," Garrus read aloud. "Spirits, Shep, what did you do there?"

"It wasn't me, Garrus, you remember. Or… wait. No, you weren't there, were you?" Shepard rubbed her temple, as if a headache were starting there.

"Are you feeling alright, Shep?"

"Hmm? Never better. Yeah. Sleeping like a baby."

Garrus glanced over to her bed, where the sheets and blankets were in complete disarray. And he hadn't asked her how she was sleeping, she'd volunteered that particular lie.

"Anyway, look. All these people, dead. All of them assigned to the Lazarus project. To me. And not one of them assigned to the _Normandy?"_

"That is strange. Did you find out where they had been assigned?" he asked, finally caught up. _I could have figured it out, if I had gotten all the information._

"That's the best part. Go ahead and bring up any one of them," Shep said.

"Nothing… nothing… Shepard, none of these people had any assignments after Lazarus. And none of them survived?"

"None but Lawson and Taylor, who are here on the ship with us."

"You know, I'd like to just thank you again for kidnapping me to come on this mission. It's really been a delightful time so far, and I can't wait to see what else Cerberus has planned." Garrus put the full measure of sarcasm into his harmonics, even though he knew Shep couldn't hear them.

"Not mention, those two, and Chambers, since she has her own dossier, as well."

"Not to mention, what?" Garrus asked, lost again.

"Well, Lawson, with her perfect body and that hair she can't stop flipping at me. Chambers, who keeps making sure I know she'd help with _anything_ I need. And Taylor, who keeps finding reasons to touch me casually." Shep's voice had gone low and seductive on the word "anything" and Garrus had to work to stay focused.

"Here for bait, you think?"

"The Vixen, the Innocent, and Lt. Manmeat, to be big and strong and rescue me."

Garrus snorted. "They missed their mark on that one, didn't they?"

"Yes, I'm seriously disappointed in their selection of eligible men," Shep said wryly. At least, he thought it was wryly. He should ask her what she meant.

"Of course, you think that's why I'm here, too," he said instead.

Shep's eyes went wide. "What, now?"

_Yeah, what, now?_ Even Garrus wasn't sure where he was going with this. He got up out of the chair and advanced on Shepard slowly.

"Well, look at the files again, Shep. You've got the Cerberus crew, fine. Then, who? Top thief, top assassin, a fucking Justicar, a salarian geneticist whose work is unmatched-"

"Wait, you knew Solus before now?"

Garrus stopped, rooted to the spot. "Well, I mean... I knew _of_ him," Garrus stammered. "Not personally. He did some work for- No, that's not important. The point is, you have a short list of people who are either Cerberus, or the top of their fields. And me. Failed Spectre, failed vigilante. In fact, my only claim to fame is having stood somewhat near you when you took down the Reaper."

"Garrus." Shep backed away a little as Garrus started advancing again.

"The only question that remains, Shepard, is whether The Illusive Man picked me just _hoping_ your old friend might distract you, or whether he arranged it with me in advance."

Shepard stopped retreating. "That's too far, Garrus. I know you."

"Do you?" he asked, taking another step.

"I trust you," she said. Grey eyes looked up at him unflinchingly, and Garrus was confused again.

_What am I doing? Has she been treating you like a traitor? I really need to blow off some steam._

"I'm sorry, Shep, I- I don't know. Cerberus has me on edge, I guess."

"It's fine. We both probably should use a drink. Wanna hit the longue? Or maybe we can grab something and bring it up here?"

Garrus stared at her. "Shepard… you remember you've asked me not to drink, don't you?"

"What? Yeah. I remember." Her tone sounded defensive, but he could never be sure with humans. She rubbed her temple again. "I just thought… maybe…."

"If you want me to, I'm sure one drink won't hurt?" he offered. _One way to blow off steam, anyway._

"Yeah. That's what I meant. I'll just go-"

"You… stay here, Shep. Sit down on the couch, or something. I can find something you'll like."

"Yeah, okay. I could sit down, I guess." Garrus watched her face closely. She looked drawn, with dark smudges underneath her eyes. Was she that short on sleep already?

"I'll be right back," he told her.

#

Shepard was asleep when he returned just minutes later, two wine bottles in hand. He set them down on the table as quietly as he could, but the glass-on-glass clink was loud enough, and she startled awake, eyes wide.

"What-" Shepard snapped her jaw shut. She trembled slightly, rubbing her right arm.

"Shepard? Does your arm hurt?" Garrus watched her with concern. She was jumpy tonight, almost shaking.

"No, I'm… I'm used to the burn scar being there. That's all." She shivered, and Garrus knew that wasn't all. He couldn't press it, though. A soldier didn't ask about scars. If she wanted to tell him, she would.

"No glasses?" she asked, grabbing the bottle labeled in human-script.

"Guess I forgot." He sat down next to her and watched as she pulled the cork out with her teeth.

"No biggie."

Garrus opened his bottle, and they drank for a while in silence. Every so often, Shep would shoot a terrified look at the sealed window, then pretend she hadn't.

_Does she think I'm missing that?_

Garrus waited. If she wanted to tell him….

"It was Mindoir," she whispered.

"I'm sorry?" he asked.

"Mindoir," she repeated. "I was little. Real little. Batarian slavers attacked, and… that was it. No more colony. I should have been in school, but I was home sick. My sisters, though… they were both at school. They hit the school, first."

"Shepard, I'm sorry." Garrus shifted a little closer, but refrained from putting an arm around her. He knew she generally hated to be touched.

_Not as much as she hates being vulnerable. _Garrus set his wine bottle down to listen.

"The burn, I hid in… I hid," she corrected herself, drinking at each pause. "They tried to burn me out, and… and I didn't get away in time…. That's all. It's not important." She kept rubbing her arm from shoulder to elbow, skin that was smooth now but had been scarred before her resurrection. He wondered who she was trying to fool.

"It seems like it is a big deal, Shep. You're obviously bothered."

"No, it's… it's them, Garrus. I don't know where they are."

"…the slavers?" he asked.

"No, not them. My sisters. Both of them." Shep shuddered.

"You had two sisters?"

"No, a bunch. There were… either five or seven of us, all together. Brothers and sisters. It was just the two, though, that I was close to."

"Well, this explains why you go crazy whenever we run into slavers," Garrus said.

"I do not." Grey eyes hardened, focusing on him ineffectively. "Name one time-"

"The time you shot me, comes to mind."

"That was an accident," Shep protested. "You got in my line of fire!"

"After you turned around," he teased her. "You were just looking for a reason to shoot me, admit it."

Shep smiled a little, then glanced to the window in fear again.

"If I just knew where they were. Whether they made it. It was my fault. I should have been in school with them."

_Dear spirits, are her eyes wet? My Shep can actually cry?_

"No, Shep, no," he soothed. He took her nearly-empty bottle from her, setting it on the table, then scooped her up in his arms. She stiffened.

"Easy, Shep. Just take the comfort. You need it." Garrus settled her into his lap, for once his thoughts about her completely clean. "It's alright, Shep. You were a child. No one could have expected you to do anything."

"I don't even know if they were killed or captured. I don't know where they are."

"I know, Shep, I- wait a minute, yes, you do." Shep pulled back to look at him.

"Shep, we met one of your sisters, on the Citadel. Before the Reaper. Don't you remember? She was-"

"Stop. Just… don't. Not right now. I can't… not right now, okay?" She lay her head back down on Garrus's chest, trembling while he rubbed her back gently.

_They really did a number on you, bringing you back from the dead, didn't they?_

Garrus soothed and petted, waiting for her to stop shaking. Eventually she did, and Garrus hoped it was safe to ask her.

"Shep… after the mission, would you want to know? She's alive, Shep, in a safe place. We can find her. …Shep?"

_Dammit, she's asleep again. She really needs to learn what her tolerance levels are._

Garrus got up slowly, balancing Shep's dead weight.

_Good thing she's tiny. _Garrus held back a chuckle, imagining her reaction if he actually called her "tiny." He got her to the bed, then arranged the blankets over her. She didn't stir. He gently brushed a hand along her hair. It was so soft. Her skin, too; there was nothing so soft on a turian. He watched her breathe, and prayed she would have a peaceful night. She needed more sleep. Already she was drooling on the pillow. Garrus opened his mouth, then hesitated.

_Well, why not? She's asleep._

"I love you, Shep," he whispered, brushing his forehead against hers.

"Mm… luh youtoo, bigguy," she murmured.

_Shit, does that count? Wake her up, make her say it again._

_No, don't. Tomorrow's soon enough to learn she meant only as a friend._

Garrus let himself out, dimming the lights on his way.


	22. Purgatory

Chapter Twenty-Two

Purgatory

_Thing is big. _Shep watched from the cockpit as Joker brought the _Normandy_ to dock with the Purgatory prison ship.

"Lawson, Taylor, Vakarian, let's go." More people than were strictly needed for a simple pick-up, but according to the files, they might need the manpower to control Jack.

Team assembled, Shep waited for the doors to unseal and let them into the prison.

"Shep," Garrus said quietly. "I just wanted to make sure you were feeling all right. After last night, I mean. You seemed-"

"Just a stomach bug," she snapped, noting Lawson watching her.

"All right, then." Garrus looked peeved again. As soon as Lawson's attention was elsewhere, Shep tapped Garrus's armor with her hand, smiling once he looked at her. He nodded.

_Good. So he knows it's the timing. We'll talk later. Maybe he'll tell me what I was talking about after I started drinking._

The doors opened, and Shepard led her crew onto the prison ship. She didn't know why, but she felt cold. Whispers danced across the back of her mind, too quiet to make out.

Turians in Blue Suns armor stopped them before they could enter the prison proper.

"No weapons beyond this point," one said.

Shep unstrapped her assault rifle, holding it casually. She had only just decided this morning, after a round of shots, that she was safe to carry the heavy damn thing. She certainly wasn't giving it up now, when it felt so good in her hands. "You want it? Come get it."

"Now, now. No need for that. I'm sure our guests won't be giving us any trouble. Will they?" Warden Kuril, sans helmet, stepped forward to greet them.

"Barefaced," Garrus muttered. Shepard didn't acknowledge, but understood the warning. Any turian who went without clan markings was not to be trusted.

"Is our package ready?" Lawson asked.

"Of course. Follow straight down this hallway, to outprocessing. As soon as I can confirm the transfer from Cerberus, the package will be released."

_Package? Transfer? Did we purchase Jack? _Shepard's jaw tightened. She started down the hallway, Garrus beside her and Taylor and Lawson right behind.

Cells bordered the length of the hallway, glass fronts allowing the prisoners to get a good look at Shep and crew as they went by. A larger space between blocks let Shep look into the guts of the station. Some of the metal cells were being moved by giant claws, pulled out of the wall here and set who-knew-where; no chance of an escape when you transport the entire sealed cell. Down below, few guards and fewer prisoners walked.

_Ghost station, skeleton crew. We could take 'em if we had to._

"Hey. Hey, are you buying prisoners?"

Shep turned, still holding her assault rifle, to the prisoner who spoke to her. He was scrawny, face bruised. His hands pressed against the glass.

"Buying prisoners?" Shep snarled.

"Yeah. Buy me. Please. I'm a good worker. I don't belong here. I only killed a couple dozen people. Not like most of the guys in here."

"The warden sells prisoners?" Shep felt a familiar beat behind her eyes.

_I don't think I'm leaving here without killing Kuril._

"Shep?" Garrus shook her shoulder. "Shep, come on. We're here for a reason."

"Slave market," she hissed.

"I know. But we're here for Jack. We'll come back when we have time. I promise."

"What's going on?" Taylor asked. He and Lawson tried to get Shep's attention, but Garrus shook his head at them.

"Let's get Jack and get the fuck out of here." Shep picked up the pace, trying not to look at any of the prisoners. Any of the slaves. The beat behind her eyes intensified, turning the world red in brief pulses.

"Outprocessing, straight ahead. Through the door."

Shep nodded at the guard, and approached the door. They would get Jack, leave, and then Shep would come back later to personally kill every one of these barefaced slaver scum running the place.

As the door they entered through sealed, the metal door in front of Shep opened on an empty cell. Kuril's voice rang out over the loudspeakers. "My apologies, Commander Shepard, but you're much more valuable as a prisoner, than a client. Drop your weapons, step into the cell, and your crew can leave with the prisoner you've purchased."

"Shep? Shepard." Garrus waved a hand in front of unseeing eyes. "Shit, we've lost Shep. I've seen this before. Stay behind her and keep her clear." He waved Lawson and Taylor away, then got into Shep's sight line. "Shepard! Listen. We all have black on our armor. We're not Suns. Shep? Acknowledge."

"Black armor. Got it."

Shepard could barely hear him at all; her head was full of screaming echoes and her eyes beat red. _Slavers._

Warden Kuril was saying something over the loudspeakers. Shepard ignored it and moved for the sealed door. They were coming again. This time, she was armed, and no longer a child. That was their mistake. When the door opened, she started firing, not even seeing her targets.

"Keep her clear!" she heard from behind her. Some of her targets exploded, blue light followed by flying guts. Shep kept moving.

"Left, Shep." Shepard almost recognized the voice, but couldn't think about that right now. She turned left, gunning down slavers as she went. She reached a room that overlooked the lower levels, a giant cryo-tank centered beneath her.

A man in a lab coat pleaded something at her. "No, no please, I'm just a doctor here, I don't-"

Shep fired. One less slave trader. She turned to the door. It was locked, so she started working on her omni-tool. She had to get through the door to get the rest of them. Voices behind her debated while she worked.

"That'll be Jack in the tank down there."

"We can't release that tank without opening every door on the block."

Shep got her door open, then turned to open whatever they were arguing about. She no longer knew them, but they weren't slavers. _Black armor. _She hit the release, and the tank below began opening. She ran toward the exit, trying to get to the lower level before the waking mechs there could attack… whoever they were here for.

Footfalls behind her were overwhelmed with crashes from below. Shep gained the room to find three heavy mechs absolutely demolished.

_Which way? _Shep looked. Several doors led out. As did a hole into the maintenance areas. She climbed through, following the trail of destruction. Kuril's voice boomed again over the loudspeakers.

"Kill any prisoner you can't subdue, but do not kill Jack."

Blue Suns armor kept appearing in front of her, and Shep dropped them. Occasionally, blue biotic light would remove a target for her. She plowed through the targets indiscriminately.

Kuril waited in the next room, directing his remaining guards.

"Shit, he's got shields," the friend-voice said. "Take them out, quickly, or Shep'll go right through them."

Guards fell around her as Shep strode toward Kuril, firing straight at him but somehow not getting him through the shimmer. Her assault rifle stopped firing and she dropped it, drawing her pistol.

"Dammit, Shep." The friend voice was near, and Shep felt a shove against her armor. She turned to fire, but it was the other one. Not a Sun. This one had loaded the rifle and reattached it for her. She turned back to Kuril. Friend-voice kept close, kept giving orders she didn't hear. Finally, the shimmer around Kuril disappeared.

_He had shielding. Gone now._ Shep's pistol stopped firing, and she dropped it, as well, activating her omni-blade and flying towards her target. She drove the blade into its face over and over again, not hearing the dying sounds of battle around her.

Vision clearing slightly, Shep could see the blue mess in front of her that no longer resembled anything like a face. She got up. There was still another target, she remembered. She didn't remember who it was. She looked for the path of ruin again, following it out. She glanced, but the only people left were the black-armors, and they weren't firing at her.

Bodies lay everywhere. Shep followed them. She heard swearing up ahead, and moved into a quick jog. The target was a bald woman, covered in tattoos. She was the swearing. Shep activated her omni-blade again, charging.

"Lawson, take her down!"

Shep tripped forward at a hard shove from behind, then had the wind knocked out of her as someone landed on her hard. She managed to roll, swinging her omni-blade towards its face.

"Shep, no," it said. It pinned her hands as Shep fought.

"I have something for that," someone said.

"Don't, Lawson. If you drug her now, you won't live long enough to regret it."

Its face was directly in front of hers, its body holding her to the ground. Blurred blue markings took over her vision, almost recognizable.

"Shep, please. It's me."

Familiar rumbling broke through, finally. Vakarian clan markings solidified.

"Garrus?"

"Thank the spirits," he said, releasing her.

"What the royal _fuck_ was that shit?" The tattooed apparition paced, anger and confusion warring on her face. Shep got to her feet shakily.

"Are you Jack? We're leaving now." Shep rolled her shoulders. She'd re-injured everything, it felt like. Hopefully Chakwas could help with that.

"Uh, no thanks. Cerberus? Crazy woman? I'm good here."

"The ship is going down," Taylor said. "There isn't going to be a 'here.'"

"Come along with us," Lawson added. "We're asking your cooperation on a mission."

"Asking, shit. Who the fuck are you, anyway?"

"I'm Commander Shepard, and these Cerberus work for me, now. Stay here and die, or get on the ship."

"I'll get on the ship, but I want something if you want me on your mission."

"We don't have time for this," Lawson said.

"Cerberus files. All of them. Or you'll find out I'm way more trouble than I'm worth. Plus, I want Spikes, here, to keep an eye on you twenty-four seven. You're fucking dangerous."

"Spikes?" Garrus asked.

"Full access," Shep agreed. Lawson and Taylor protested and Shep glared at them. "Anyone who has problems with the terms can stay here."

"Well then, let's go before the whole thing blows." Jack turned, walking onto the ship. Lawson and Taylor followed, leaving Garrus and Shep alone for a moment.

"Shepard, are you all right? It wasn't so bad before, was it?"

Shep thought about how to answer that. How to explain the screams, the burning smells that filled her nights, how they were so much worse than they'd ever been. She'd already spilled more than enough; when would learn to stop drinking at all?

"I owe you one, Spikes."

#

"Welcome to the _Normandy_, Jack. My name is Miranda Lawson. I'm Commander Shepard's second in command here-"

"The hell you say." Shep stormed into the conference room, catching the last part of the speech. She turned to Jack. "If you obey my orders and keep out of trouble, everything will be fine. My second is Garrus Vakarian. Lawson will get you those files."

"Vakarian?" Lawson exploded.

"Which one's Vakarian?" Jack asked.

"Right here," Garrus said. He had taken Jack's suggestion that he stay on Shep literally. Already Shep was tired of him nearly stepping on her heels, but she knew they both had a point. Until she got this worked out, it was safer to have him on guard.

"Oh, you mean Spikes. That's cool. Imma bed down in the engines or something. Little Miss Cerberus can bring me those files whenever she likes."

"You can have a real bunk, you know," Shep told her.

"I'm good. I like the noise. The warmth. The privacy." Jack left the room, flipping Lawson off as she went.

"Commander," Lawson said, "you can't be serious. She can't be trusted, and The Illusive Man clearly wanted _me _as your second-"

"And he wanted me in charge, Lawson. Which means I make staffing changes whenever I feel they're warranted. Now get the files for Jack, before I have to bump you below Taylor."

Garrus snickered as Lawson stomped away. "She looks maaad, Shep. Second in command, though. I can work with that."

Shep was alone with Garrus. This was her chance to ask him to help her. To talk it out, and figure out why she seemed to be losing control.

"Come on, Spikes, you still owe me a spar."

"Oh, good. I was hoping 'Spikes' would catch on."


	23. One Fish, Two Fish, Dead Fish, New Fish

Chapter Twenty-Three

One fish, Two Fish, Dead Fish, New Fish

Shepard stood in front of her fish tank, brooding. She had killed in battle; enemies, all. She had killed by not being fast enough, not being smart enough. Jenkins and Williams were just two examples of where she'd failed and her own team had paid for it. She had never before killed something that all you had to do was shake a little dry food in the tank.

She watched as the circulating water in the tank moved the tiny corpses around, formerly beautiful exotic animals now lifeless dancers on the surface of the water.

"Shep, I'm here, what's the emergency?" Garrus panted heavily; had he run the whole way?

"I didn't say it was an emergency. I just said you needed to come up here right away. My fish are dead."

"Fish? Really?" The disbelief was plain on his face. "You called me up here for fish?" he confirmed.

"I was responsible for them. Now they're dead, Garrus."

Garrus sighed, and Shepard wondered what he was thinking. Did he think her stupid, for finding a parallel?

"Did you feed them?" he asked.

"Of course I fed them. I'm not stupid."

"Well, did you feed them too much?" he pressed.

"Too much? They were hungry, so I fed them."

"Shepard, some kinds of fish don't stop when they're full. You can't feed them whenever they want food, you have to follow the recommendations."

"So I did kill them, then." Her voice was morose and she knew it, but she couldn't help it. She tried to remind herself that they were fish. Not soldiers or sisters. Fish.

"Shep," he rumbled, throwing one arm over her shoulder. "It's okay. They're just fish," he added, echoing her thoughts. "Why don't you head out, and I'll scoop these guys for you?"

"All right. I think I can get Chakwas to give me one more set of shots. Probably the last one, though. She thinks I'm healed."

"You do seem to be in pretty good condition."

Shep snorted, but didn't bother to correct him. While her body may be fit and ready for duty, she was starting to suspect Cerberus had fucked up big in her brain. Not that there was anything she could do about that right now. But she'd prefer to get back to a state where she didn't nearly cry over dead fish, eventually.

"I think we'll head to the Citadel," she said. "The last shore leave wasn't a real one, and I think everyone could use the rest."

"Shepard, tell me this isn't about getting more fish." He had the little fish-net-thing in the tank, sleeves of his undersuit rolled up to his elbows.

"Of course it's not about getting more fish," she said, not quite meeting his eyes.

"They just happen to be at the same place, right? Do me a favor, Shep, get a manual this time."

#

Shep's teeth worried her lower lip, stopping only when Garrus glanced at her.

"You feeling alright?"

_Well, I'm getting a bitch of a headache and picking out fish for their execution. Just dandy. _"Fine. Let me have some of those," Shep told the clerk, gesturing to a pretty fan-finned thing.

"Shep, what about those?" Garrus asked. As she turned to look where he indicated, Shep heard him lean over the counter and whisper to the clerk, "She needs fish she can't accidentally kill."

"Hey, I can hear you."

"Why don't you check on the rest of the crew, while I pick out some fish for you?" His mandibles spread in a placating smile.

"You're on my list, Vakarian. I want the other ones," she told the clerk. The asari stood frozen, unsure of who to listen to.

"Don't do it. You'll be signing their death warrant." His tone was serious, but he chuffed under his breath. The clerk hesitated, and Shep swore quietly.

"You go ahead and pick out whatever fish, then, Garrus. Then you're meeting me for lunch."

Garrus's face fell. "Oh, Shep, no. Please not the-"

"Cereal bar," she said. Garrus groaned while Shep smirked in victory. _That'll teach him._

"Shep, please. It isn't even food for turians. It's what we eat when the food's run out."

"Well, I can always stay here. I'll pick my fish, and you can pick a place for lunch?"

Garrus flicked his mandibles in mock irritation. "Go ahead. I'll meet you. I don't want their tiny amounts of blood on my hands."

"You remember where it is?" Shep called, leaving the pet shop.

"It's etched in my memory. I visit it in nightmares." He turned back to the clerk. "Those ones. They're hardy."

#

"Here are your damn fish, I hope- Shepard, what's wrong?" Garrus leaned in, plainly concerned. He touched the back of a hand to her face, her throat. "Shep, you're burning up."

"Are these my fish?" Shep poked the bag. "They look like little krogan."

"There's nothing wrong with krogan. Shep, seriously, though. I think you're sick. You're sweating." He slid into the booth across from her, bumping his knees again. Apparently, Del hadn't bothered with those renovations he'd promised.

"I'm fine. And fish aren't supposed to look like krogan. They're supposed to be delicate and pretty." Shepard glared. These were not the fish she wanted.

"Well, did you want 'delicate and pretty,' or did you want 'able to survive you?' When's the last time a krogan's died of overfeeding?"

"Don't make me out to be some kind of fish-murderer. It's not like I did it on purpose."

"Come on, Shep, you know I'm just- shit, Shep." Garrus set the bag of fish on the table and came around to her side, balling up a napkin to press against her face.

"What the hell?" she said.

"Shep, you are not fine. Your face is on fire and spouting blood. You can go back to the _Normandy _and see the doctor, or I can mutiny and drag you there."

Shep made a disgusted sound. "You are such a baby. Just because I'm a little feverish and a little bleeding, doesn't mean there's anything wrong."

Del, the salarian owner of the cereal bar, arrived just as Shepard wobbled to her feet. "Going so soon? You haven't even had your first bowl."

"We'll have to take a rain check, Del," Garrus told him. Leaning in, he muttered, "Send another box of her favorite to the _Normandy. _We're docked a couple days." He tried to grab Shep's elbow to steady her, but she pushed it away, determined to fall or stand on her own. Garrus sighed, carrying her fish for her. If she did fall, he'd probably be able to catch her before she hit the ground. Probably.

"Sick every shore leave," Garrus mused. "You must be intolerable on a real vacation."

"Eat it, Vakarian, I can still kick your ass." Garrus watched her placing one foot in front of the other, careful as a drunk, and decided not to push the issue. As much as it hurt him to see her any less than her best, it was really nice being able to take care of her, just a little bit.

_Oh, sure. You scooped some fish and now you're watching to see if she falls down. Better write me soon, son. I wouldn't want to miss this._ Not for the first time, Garrus told his father's voice to shut up, something he'd never done in real life.

Shepard's legs shook, almost dropping her, and Garrus was quick to put a steadying hand on her waist. It was a sign of just how bad off she was that she didn't even object as he guided her back to her ship


	24. Infection

Chapter Twenty-Four

Infection

Shepard jolted into wakefulness, rolling off the hospital bed and landing in a crouch. The paper sheet stuck to her skin, sliding off the bed with her.

"She's back," Garrus sighed. "I told you she'd be fine." The words were at odds with the tremor in his voice.

"What's going on?" Shep asked. Her mouth was dry, and she gratefully accepted the glass of water Garrus offered.

"What's going on, is you've been out for three days." Dr. Chakwas seemed pissed, slapping Shep's arm lightly to get her to hop back onto the infirmary bed. "Some kind of infection. Couldn't wake you, and I have no idea what the source is. Have you eaten anything strange?"

"Ship food?"

"Have you met anyone who's sick? Did anyone on the Citadel touch you?" Chakwas shined a flashlight into Shepard's eyes, pulling Shep's swollen eyelids out of the way. Shep tried to move away from the light, but Garrus's hand on her shoulder encouraged her to behave. "You seem fine now," Chakwas finally barked. "Next time you feel faint, tell me first. It's some kind of blood poisoning and we'll have to stay on top of it. I'm going for a lie-down."

"She's been up for three days," Garrus murmured.

"So, what happened?" Shep asked.

Garrus took a step back, leaning against a wall. He couldn't quite meet her eyes as he spoke, and Shep wondered how worried he had been.

"You collapsed. Chakwas said, infection, but no idea where it's started. She pumped you full of antibiotics and kept draining black fluid out of you. Nothing seemed to help. She was surprised when you started coming around. Shep, do you know what's causing it?"

"No idea. I'll be fine. Chakwas'll keep an eye on it." Shepard looked at the delicate tracery of veins in her arm, noting the black tint now over the normal blue.

"Shepard, Chakwas doesn't know what it is. We have to go back to the Citadel for testing."

"I'll make it to the Collectors. After that, it doesn't matter."

Garrus made a pained face. "Shepard."

"Wait, go _back_ to the Citadel? We're not there now?"

"Lawson thought we'd lose crew if we stayed past the leave, so she ordered us away."

"_Technically," _EDI interrupted, _"Officer Vakarian ordered us away. Joker explained that as he is your second-in-command, obeying Operative Lawson's orders over his would be mutiny."_

Shepard grinned as she watched Garrus preen slightly. "Helpful, EDI."

"Yes, well," he said. "It was a good idea, this time. We're only a couple hours out, though. We can turn right around-"

"_Commander Shepard, I should advise you that The Illusive Man is waiting to speak with you."_

Shepard's grin fell away.

"I don't think that's quite as helpful, EDI," Garrus said wryly.

"May as well go see him now," Shep grumbled.

"I can come with you?"

"No. If I'm going to be yelled at like a green recruit, I'd rather do it alone." As she exited the infirmary, she could hear Garrus bitching at the V.I. in a whisper.

"You couldn't have waited?" he hissed, then Shep was out of earshot.

#

"Were you planning on making progress at any point, Commander? Or do you think this is a vacation cruise?"

Shep bit her tongue to hold the sarcasm in. She had answers lined up for that, but nothing that would be helpful in the present situation.

"Perhaps if I had some idea of how to hit the Collectors, it'd be done. Crew seems to think we're hitting the Collector base eventually, but without some coordinates, it's a pretty vague target to plug into the navigation systems."

"You need to be on Solus's ass. We still don't have a solution for the seeker swarms. And you haven't gotten the krogan scientist yet, despite him being in an extremely dangerous position."

"You're free to come relieve me of duty. Any time." _And I will rip that cheap-fancy suit right off you before I throw you out the airlock._

"Just get on it, Shepard."

#

"Commander, do you have a minute?"

"Commander, a moment please?"

"Commander, a little help here?"

Shepard tried to get to Solus, but it seemed everyone needed something. She couldn't even follow it all. Taylor was upset, something to do with his father. Lawson's sister- _she has a sister?- _may or may not be in the process of being kidnapped, Jack wanted to blow something up. Although whether that was something she _needed _or something she _wanted _was up for debate. You'd think destroying the damn prison ship was enough for her.

"Conference room, ten minutes!" When the shouting didn't scare people, the glare did. "EDI, please make sure my entire ground crew will be assembled in ten. Anyone not there is off the mission."

Shepard's pulse beat behind her eyes, now tinged with black instead of the normal red that her headaches usually came with. She was probably imagining it, she decided. She gave the crew time to get to the conference room, swinging by the mess for a cup of coffee.

"Thanks again for that grocery run, Commander," Gardner said. He grinned at her. At least someone was pleased with how she was running the show. "That's genuine coffee, by the way. Not powder, ground 'em myself."

"It's fantastic." Shepard nodded at him, draining her coffee before she went to face her crew. She took a moment before entering the conference room to think about what she was going to say. Then, as she normally did, she gave up and just started talking.

"It seems you all have some unfinished business. That ends now. I need your full attention on this mission or you will be worse than useless. If you have something that just can't wait, let EDI know. She'll start a list and we will get to everyone's crap before the suicide mission. Other than that, I don't want to hear another word on it. Am I clear?"

Garrus looked shocked; was she actin that strange? _Blame the blood poisoning._

"Now with the exception of Solus, you're dismissed. Get back to work." The rest of her ground team, Lawson, Taylor, Kasumi and Jack shuffled away. Garrus stayed by her side as Mordin blinked rapidly in front of her. That was fine; she didn't mind Garrus staying.

"Solus. Any progress on the seeker swarms?"

"Nearly there, Commander. Working on neutralizing their effect. A few more days."

"Keep me posted. Keep the Illusive Man posted, as well." _I don't need to get yelled at again because you haven't gotten it yet. _She kept that part to herself. It was her job to get yelled at when things went wrong. It was her job to coax her crew into doing better. She hated it, sometimes. She nodded at Solus, dismissing him.

Once the room was clear, Garrus was immediately supporting her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She'd prefer to shrug it off, but her legs were trembling. She needed the damn support.

"Shepard, you need to go to the hospital. Chakwas doesn't have the equipment for this."

"EDI, Illusive wants us to pick up the krogan scientist before it's too late. Set a course for wherever the hell that is."

"_Yes, Commander Shepard."_

"Shepard." Garrus's tone was reproachful. Shep knew she should probably care, but she just couldn't, right now.

"I'll take a nap, okay? I'm sure I'll be better after a couple hours of good sleep."

Garrus sighed, but let her go, his eyes on her as she tried not to stumble on her way to the elevator.

#

In her cabin, Shepard was uncharacteristically timid. She checked that the shutters were closed. Then, she checked under the bed (which was solidly bolted to the deck), in the bathroom, and in all the drawers. She found nothing that shouldn't be there.

_Then what the hell is that whispering sound?_

Shit. She remembered the glances she'd caught Garrus and Chakwas throwing at each other, in the med-bay. Whatever this infection was, it was in her brain. She'd have to watch it. Hurry up and get to the Collectors. Then someone else could take care of the next thing.

Climbing into bed, Shep had to draw her gun, panicking until she saw it was just a stuffed varren. She pulled the tag off of it, smiling. He had written the note in his beautiful turian script, then laboriously translated it into English for her.

_Here's the stuffed varren. Whenever you're ready to be tucked in and hear the story, let me know. -G_

Shepard snugged into the blankets, holding on to her varren. She was going to have to do something about that. Sure, he was sweet, but wasn't it inappropriate?

_He's technically not a subordinate. Two different militaries._

_Still. Don't have time for this right now. Maybe when the war's over. _She told herself this as she drifted off to sleep, the black lines growing clearer on her arm, making their steady progress upwards toward her heart.


	25. Krogan

Chapter Twenty-Five

Krogan

Garrus sat in the shuttle, watching his Shep. He didn't like her coloring; she was too pale. He wondered if there was a way to make her go to the hospital.

_Not unless she passes out again. And since she knows the first thing I'll do is put everything else aside while I take her for treatment, I'd be willing to bet she won't pass out again anytime soon._

_Shit._

He watched her, wishing there was something else, anything else he could do. He knew the stuff in her veins would eventually kill her if they didn't figure out a way to kill it first, she was getting paler by the minute, and now she was just staring out the shuttle widow, breathing raggedly. Garrus moved so he was sitting next to her.

"Shepard."

Shep didn't answer, only continuing to stare out the window at the sea of stars.

"Shep?"

"Hmm?" She dragged her gaze away, finally noticing him. "What, what's wrong?"

"That's what I'm trying to ask you, Shep. What's wrong?"

Shepard looked out at the stars again, shuddering before turning back to him. "Nothing, big guy, I'm good."

She redirected her eyes to the floor between her feet. Garrus sighed and moved back to his previous seat, next to Kasumi.

"Trouble in paradise?" Kasumi murmured, low enough for Shep not to hear.

"It's not like that," Garrus said. "I'm just worried about her."

"I'm sure she has a handle on it." Kasumi looked up at him from under her hood.

"I'm sure you're right," he agreed. He wasn't sure of that at all, but the worst thing he could do right now was undermine the crew's confidence in Shep. They all needed to know she was firmly in control. They didn't need to hear that she would push herself until it killed her, as he'd watched her nearly do on the last mission. They needed her to be strong.

Garrus needed her alive.

"What the fuck is everyone whispering about?" Jack demanded from the co-pilot seat.

Garrus had forgotten she was on the ground team today. "Nothing, Jack."

"I wanna know. I'm _bored _up here."

"Then you could have sat with us," Garrus snapped.

"Next to Psycho? I don't think so."

"Enough of that," Shep interrupted, as the movement of the shuttle changed to show they were landing. "Look, the intel we have indicates that this krogan, Okeer, might be captured here, held against his will. We're not sure on it, but expect hostiles."

"This is different from normal how?" Garrus asked.

Shepard ignored him. "I want everyone on their toes. Jack, you're our biotic, so I want you to focus on defense."

"You're no fun," Jack muttered.

The shuttle landed, and Shep opened a door onto rubbled remains of some kind of base, giants blocks of concrete strewn about. Garrus had to fight the urge to tackle Shep, lock her in the shuttle for safety.

_That would go well. You'd be lucky if all she did was kick you off the mission._

Well, he couldn't keep her out of harm's way. He would just have to destroy all the harm before it could reach her.

#

_More Blue Suns. I hope Shep doesn't flip her shit again._

She seemed to be alright. She moved through targets with a single-minded determination that he couldn't help admiring. Jack, despite her protests, was making sure nothing reached the team. In between ripping mercs apart with her mind, that was. Kasumi danced around the ruins, picking off targets usually just as Garrus noticed them; she was going to be a valuable asset to the team. Garrus kept his eyes mostly on Shep, glancing away to scan and make sure no one had a bead on her. He made sure to keep his focus especially when Shep stopped to talk, first to a wounded merc, then later to a krogan who had decided not to fire on them. He missed most of the conversations, instead trying to make sure nothing was going wrong. He caught enough to know they were headed for a lab, where this Okeer person was apparently breeding an army of krogan for the mercenary boss here.

_Didn't we do this already? On Virmire, when Shep lost Williams?_

When he realized that, he looked sharply to Shep. She was trembling lightly, and he knew he'd have to make absolute certain they didn't lose anyone here. He didn't know if she'd be able to handle losing someone again right now.

_Why don't you tell her she can't handle this? She'll kick your ass six different ways, but she'll probably stop being panicked._

#

Garrus followed closely as Shep led them through the ruins into some buildings that were still left standing. They were working their way through labs now; operating tables and surgical equipment dominated the rooms as they flew through each one. There were no people in this area; all the mercs and the strangely passive- well, passive when they weren't killing mercs- krogan were below, where the buildings were all destroyed.

Shepard hacked yet another door and Garrus wished she would let him take point. He was fast, but if Shep was the first one through, and there was someone waiting….

This time there was. Garrus barely managed not to fire as he saw little blue hands shoot up into the air. A split-second later, Jack was holding the asari in a stasis field.

"Shepard, don't shoot!" the asari pleaded. "You know me."

Garrus scanned the room, not quite lowering his rifle.

_Does Shep really know this person? _he wondered.

"I shut down the security cameras as soon as I saw it was you. Never thought I'd say it, but I'm glad it's you shooting up the place."

_Oh, sure; you're happy to help. When do you shoot my Shep in the back?_

"You're the asari I didn't kill on Virmire, aren't you? Rana, right?" Shep asked.

_Virmire! Oh, this is too much of a coincidence, Shep. She was trouble last time. Don't let her go again._

Shep's face was dark; he hoped she was thinking along the same lines.

"And here you are again, making another krogan army for another madman bent on galactic war," Shep said.

_Good, Shep! Now kill her so we can get the krogan we need and then leave._

"It's not like that this time," Rana protested. "Helping Saren was a mistake, I admit it. But I'm not here for Jedore, I'm here for Okeer. He's really trying to do something for the krogan. Everyone deserves a second chance."

"You're asking for a third one," Shepard said. She lowered her assault rifle while she thought. Garrus stared at her, willing her to make the right decision this time.

Finally Shep sighed, and Garrus knew he was hoping in vain. "Let her go, Jack," Shep said.

Jack protested loudly while Garrus kept his tongue. He knew it wouldn't help to argue with her. He looked at Kasumi and nodded his head toward the asari. Kasumi cloaked and reappeared silently behind Rana, ready for the asari to pull a weapon. Shepard won the brief argument with Jack, and the blue bubble around Rana disappeared.

"I'll just be going now," Rana said, trotting quickly past them. "Keep going the same direction and you'll reach Okeer's main lab."

Garrus growled lightly. Letting her go was both stupid and dangerous.

_And patently Shepard._

He thought it was done, but Shepard reached out quickly as Rana walked by her, grabbing the slight asari by her collar and holding her close to her own face.

"If I run into you one more time," Shep threatened, "it's going to be one time too many. Got it?"

"Yes, I understand. I promise. You won't see me again." Rana's eyes were wide, her hands touching Shep's but not daring to struggle.

"Get lost, then," Shepard said, dropping her. Rana stumbled, then starting moving much more quickly once she'd regained her feet. And that, too, was patently Shepard.

#

Okeer's lab turned out to be close, but Okeer himself didn't seem to be in the mood for rescue. Garrus tuned out while Shepard talked to him, wandering over to a large window. Below were large groups of glass tanks, oversized test tubes full of krogan. Garrus didn't see too many of them, but judging from the rest of the buildings he could see, there were likely hundreds of krogan there. Thousands, maybe.

"…building the perfect krogan. We don't need numbers. We don't need a cure. Just this one perfect krogan, and we will retake our place in the galaxy," Okeer was saying.

"And you really thought dealing with the Collectors was the best way to do this?" Shep asked.

_Wait, what? _Garrus left the window; what the hell was going on between Shep and Okeer?

"I gave them krogan only, not your human colonists. Not your business."

Garrus watched as Shep's finger crept toward the trigger. The man had just admitted to selling his own into slavery. He was about to talk himself into a quick death.

"Commander? I believe we have other problems," Kasumi interrupted, pointing up toward the ceiling. They all looked, and Garrus was able to pull the scent out of the smoke coming from the vents.

"Gas," he said.

Okeer swore and started typing rapidly into his computer. "That stupid woman. She has no will; she's going to kill them all and start over."

"We don't have time for this," Shep said. "Okeer, let's go."

"No. This one cannot be replaced. He was as much trial as knowledge." Okeer indicated the tank beside him, where a larger-than-average krogan slept in suspension. "Go kill her. Jedore. Then I'll tell you everything I know about the Collectors."

Shepard didn't hesitate. "Let's kill some mercs." She ran for the far door, Jack and Kasumi right behind her. Garrus hung back only a moment. There was something in Okeer's eyes he didn't trust; but he couldn't let Shep go down there alone.

"Fuck," he muttered, running to catch up.

#

Shep was already in cover, down among the tanks. Krogan climbed out of them periodically as YMIR mechs tried to pin down the attackers' positions. Kasumi was flying around, seeming to pop in and out of existence. Jack was in a defensive posture by Shep, keeping up a biotic shield and sending biotic explosions whenever she could. And laughing while she did it. Garrus analyzed quickly, saw Shep was safe enough for the time being, and elected to stay where he'd paused, halfway down the stairs and as yet unnoticed by their enemies. He readied his sniper rifle and began taking shots, knocking down mechs and krogan while he waited to spot the leader of this mess.

_That one._

Garrus let out a slow breath, aimed, and then Jedore was down. The rest of them were quickly taken care of once their leader was gone.

A blare behind him nearly startled him out of position but he checked that the field was clear before responding.

"Shep," he shouted, "alarms in the labs!"

Shepard came on the run. Garrus didn't wait for her, preferring to meet the new threat first. He bolted back into the lab, and froze. There was no new threat, just Okeer lying dead on the floor in front of his beloved tank. At the computer, an audio file reached its end and started to replay.

"_Sorry, Commander. You've helped me, and for that I would have told you why the Collectors are taking your people, but I don't know. Please take care of my perfect krogan. He is my hope for the future."_

"Balls. He's dead?" Shep asked behind him. Garrus walked over to check on Okeer.

"He's dead. Looks like he managed to stop the gas, though. What do we do about this one?" he asked, gesturing to the tank.

"Might not be the best idea," Kasumi offered quietly.

"I can take him down, if he gets rough." Jack grinned, cracking her knuckles.

Shepard shook her head. Garrus wanted to go to her, to pet her fringe- no, hair- and tell her that it was alright. She was much too pale. She needed a rest and a doctor.

"EDI, we have a package for pickup," she told her omni-tool. "Not leaving empty-handed," she muttered to herself.

Garrus looked at the sleeping krogan in the tank, wondering what new trouble Shep had just purchased for them.

_None at all,_ he decided. _If he can't be managed, I'll shoot him myself._

* * *

_AN: Back to our regularly scheduled programming. Expect updates on Tuesdays and Fridays. Thanks for reading.  
_


	26. Tank-Born

Chapter Twenty-Six

Tank-Born

"If I had been on the ground team, you wouldn't have even brought it back," Lawson snapped. Shep looked at her levelly.

"Then it's a good thing you weren't there to contradict my orders, wasn't it?"

They weren't in the debrief; Lawson had met them as they boarded the ship. Shep had already dismissed the others, but Garrus was on her heels as she stormed towards the hold just slightly too fast for Lawson to keep up comfortably in her heeled boots.

"It's dangerous, we don't know him, he doesn't have a psych profile-"

"You can note all that on your tough shit list and give it to the chaplain," Shep muttered. She thought she heard Garrus snort behind her.

"We don't have a chaplain," Lawson objected, missing the joke. Garrus was trying not to laugh out loud, Shep thought.

"Well, then, 'missing chaplain' is something else for your list, Lawson," Shep said. "Why don't you find somewhere else to be?"

Lawson made a disgusted noise and hurried back to the elevator; Shep was going to the hold, and she was going to wake up the krogan. Shepard stopped with her hand on the lock, looking up at Garrus. He straightened and made an effort to stop laughing.

"You're staying out here, big guy."

Garrus gaped at her.

_Guess that killed the funny._

"No, Shep. No way. I trust you, but she is right; he may be dangerous. I'll be your back-up."

"Not this time. He may be disoriented. Better he just sees one person until he can get his bearings."

Shepard watched, unmoving, while Garrus thought of a few choice things to say and dismissed them all. Finally, he stopped opening his mouth only to snap it shut, and actually managed to say something.

"Let me do it, then. We need you. You're the captain of this ship, remember?"

"I do remember. That's why I have to do it. Now, please stop arguing with me and just be ready on this side of the door." She had used her most careful tone, not wanting to fight with him. Garrus could be reasonable if you gave him the chance.

He kicked the wall once, before turning and leaning on it. His jaw was set.

"Fine. But if you make me bury you again, I'm going to piss on your corpse."

"I look forward to it, Garrus," she said, opening the door and slipping through. She locked it the moment she was on the other side. The last thing she wanted was a minor altercation turning into a bloodbath because he wouldn't wait to see if she could resolve things.

Shep approached the tank. The krogan inside was bigger than any she'd met. She wondered briefly if Okeer's teaching would have given him full krogan culture, or if she'd have to improvise. Either way, she'd already taken off her armor and left her assault rifle. No sense starting trouble.

_Might as well get it over with._

"EDI, how's our guest?"

"_The tank was moved to the ship without incident. The krogan inside is in stable condition."_

"Great. Wake him up."

"_Commander Shepard, Cerberus protocol is clear on alien technology-"_

"Are they also clear on chain of command?" There was a pause before EDI answered. Shep knew it didn't take the ship that long to think; was she consulting with Lawson and Taylor? Maybe even The Illusive Man?

"EDI-"

"_Yes, Commander Shepard. They are clear."_

"Then open the damn tank."

"_Yes, Commander Shepard."_

Shepard stepped back as the glass front of the tank unsealed and the liquid suspending the krogan started the pour out.

_Someone has a mess to clean up later._

The krogan in the tank started moving uncertainly, blinking his eyes. After a moment to look around, he pushed forward out of the tank, stumbling over the lip and hitting the ground.

"Shit, you okay?" Shepard stepped forward, realizing her mistake only after he charged her, landing his shoulder into her stomach and driving her into the wall. Shep got her left arm up in time to prevent his arm from collapsing her windpipe; her other hand found her pistol and waited.

"Before you die, I need a name," the krogan said. His blue eyes stared into her grey, and Shepard sneered.

"You looking for me to kill you? My name is Shepard, and you want to put me down if you want to see your second day of life outside the tube."

"Not your name… my name…. There were many words in the tank. Destiny, greatness… grunt. This word has no meaning. It will do. I am Grunt. Now, try to kill me."

Shep barked a laugh. "Why you wanna die so young, Grunt?"

"It is not about 'want.' I know only the need to fight. The right enemies aren't here, but I can still fight you."

"Fight _for _me instead. My enemies threaten the whole galaxy. No one knows if they're too powerful to be defeated. Fight with me, and you will find glory. And possibly death. But mostly glory."

"Death and glory," Grunt mused. "It sounds acceptable. But it's promised by a human who fights with words."

Shepard tapped the barrel of her gun on his lightly-armored stomach, and Grunt started laughing. He set her down, then, still smiling.

"One hand open while the other is armed. I will fight for you, Shepard. Let me know when you're ready."

"Great. We scavenged some armor from the labs, and there's a bed in here. Or you can have a bunk with the rest of the crew, if you like."

"I will stay here."

Shep nodded and headed for the door. That went quite well, considering. She entered her code and the door slid open, nearly spilling Garrus into the hold. He scrambled to his feet, mandibles tucked.

"Hear anything interesting?" she asked.

"Just alert for possible trouble, Commander."

Shep started walking, Garrus falling in beside her.

"I think he's going to be fine," she said. "Eager to fight. Better targets than me. Might have to keep an eye on him after we kill all the Collectors and Reapers, though."

"Shep, you're looking pale again. I think you should stop by the infirmary."

"Don't worry about it, Garrus. I'm going to-"

"_Commander," _Mordin's voice buzzed through her omni-tool.

"Go."

"_Something to show you. Ready now. Come see?"_

"On my way."

"Shep, the infirmary. You need-"

"It'll wait, Garrus."

She had reached the elevator and held the door, her eyes issuing a challenge. Garrus sighed and got on it with her, clenching his jaw shut.

#

Shep's pace slowed as she reached the doctor's lab; was someone singing?

"I am the very model of a scientist salarian. I've studied species turian, asari, and batarian…."

She looked to Garrus; he seemed just as mystified.

"I'm quite good at genetics, as a subset of biology… Because I am an expert, which I know is a tautology."

"Dr. Solus?" Shep asked.

"Oh, good. You've arrived. Ready to test counteragent. Will work on humans. Also, salarians. Reasonably sure on turian. Not on krogan, but no need for krogan. Krogan immune to nearly everything; found out on genophage project…"

"What was that?" Shep asked.

"Hmm? Oh, research. Just research, nothing more. At any rate; ready for testing. Just need-"

"_Commander Shepard."_

"Lawson, what?" Shep barked at the omni-tool. She was about ready to break the damn thing.

"_Urgent message from The Illusive Man. The colony on Horizon has gone silent. Possible Collector attack."_

"Joker, get us to Horizon now. EDI, notify the Alliance-"

"_I'm sorry, Commander Shepard. I am unable to send outgoing signals at this time."_

"Garrus."

"I'm on it." Garrus left the room at a jog. Shepard wondered how many other booby-traps Cerberus had left in this damn ship. Enough so that she wouldn't be able to do her job?

"Solus. Are you sure this'll work against the bugs?"

"Sure, sure. Reasonably sure. Not certain; never certain."

"Dose me up. Then get the others. I want my full ground team with me."

"I can get into my armor as soon as-"

"Negative. You're not on the ground team. If this thing doesn't work, we need you to figure out how to get us back."

"Understood, Commander." Mordin loaded a hypodermic up with his newly-developed counteragent.

"Hey, do we know this won't interact with anything else in my system?" Shep asked, eyeing the giant needle as she rolled up her sleeve.

"Reasonably sure."

Shepard sighed. "Do it, then."


	27. Horizon

_Sorry for short update. Author has the flu._

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Horizon

"Okay. We're going to have two small teams. Lawson, you have Taylor and Grunt. Jack and Kasumi, you're with me-"

"Forgetting someone, Commander?" Garrus asked from behind her.

"Give me five minutes," Shep told the others before pulling Garrus aside.

"Vakarian. I already told you, you are not coming. Solus isn't sure on this counteragent for turian physiology."

"He's about as sure as he is with humans. And if you lose me, you lose Jack. You know she won't work with you alone, and you can't put her under Lawson. And with Solus staying, too, that puts you at half a team, most of which will be Cerberus and the new guy." Garrus's mandibles were set and his chest was puffed a little. He was ready for a fight.

"I let you get this out in private, Vakarian, but you are not going to win this one."

"Shep, you know I don't want to, but I will continue to argue this in public, if you make me."

Shepard glared. Black pulses beat behind her eyes and the most logical reaction was _kill him, kill him now._

_I'm in fucking trouble, aren't I?_

"You know there won't be time for first aid if Solus's thing doesn't work? There may be Collectors, and you'll just have to lie there bleeding out until we can get to you."

"I'm aware of the risks on any mission, Commander."

Thoughts argued as she tried to stare him down. If she pressed the issue, he would refuse her orders, and she would kill him. She could see he wasn't going to back down.

_Blue blood pours down my arms-_

_What the fuck kind of infection is this?_

Shepard abruptly turned back to the rest of the team. "Garrus will be on my team as well. Kasumi, you're assigned to my team, but do what you do best. Are we clear?"

Murmured assent was overlaid with Joker buzzing through on the omni-tool. Shepard took a second to answer. She didn't like the way the crew were looking at her. She needed to kill them.

"Joker, say again."

"_We have a visual, Commander. You should see this. It looks bad."_

"Lawson, Vakarian, with me. Everyone else, be ready to get boots on ground."

#

"Fuckmonkeys, is that the Collector ship?" Shep asked.

"Does she always talk like this?" Garrus asked.

"Only when she's really stressed," Joker whispered back.

"If you don't mind, gentlemen, could this wait until after the mission?"

"Right, Commander." Joker straightened up in his chair. "That appears to be the Collector ship. It's, ah, fucking huge. And we're getting a lot of weird signals from the ground. They're down there. We don't have a signal from Horizon itself, it's still dead."

"Where can you put us down, Joker?"

"I've identified an LZ that'll get you close, but keep the _Normandy _out of range. Horizon's got some big guns that might help, but they're not firing."

"Vakarian, how are we on signaling out?"

"Got it working. Raised the Alliance. They're on their way." Garrus hesitated. "Should we… should we wait for them, Commander?"

"Negative. Half the colonists will be gone by now. We go get them back."

#

Lawson's team went at the first drop-point, Shep's a little further on.

"Solus, how sure are you on this counter-agent?" Shep asked, looking around the empty colony.

"_As stated, reasonably sure. Is still in theory, after all."_

"That doesn't sound good," Kasumi said.

"_Need more data, always. Look forward to your report."_

"Lawson, what do you see?" Shep shifted from foot to foot. She wasn't used to not being able to see her whole team.

"_Whole lot of nothing, Commander. Colony's been hit hard."_

"Keep eyes peeled, people. Let's move."

Horizon didn't look like Freedom's Progress had. Freedom's Progress had been a ghost town, all the people just gone with no trace. Horizon was no less empty of living people, but there were signs that something had happened. A few corpses were scattered across the ground as they made their way through the pre-fab buildings towards the Collector ship. Small fires had broken out, sending their smoke upwards like appeals to the gods.

Shep's team was quiet, and she had to keep checking back to see if they were still there. Her fucking _eyes_ itched and she was certain that as soon as she wasn't paying attention, her team would disappear.

"Lawson, report."

"_Still nothing, Commander." _Her tone was palpable through the helmet mic. Shep reminded herself to dress her down later. Unacceptable. Unacceptable on a mission.

"Shepard, down!" Garrus shouted.

Shepard dropped just in time as the first shots sailed over her head. Shit. How had she missed them? Her team seemed to be moving much too fast in their black haze.

"Report," she demanded.

"They came pouring in, Commander." Garrus leaned close, lowering his voice. "Shep, you need the infirmary. I can take over. Go back-"

"Keep moving." She crouched over one of the dead targets, ignoring the group's chatter. It looked vaguely like the husks they had seen last time around. But there were no dragon's teeth; how had they made them?

"That proves it," Garrus was saying to Kasumi.

"Proves what, soldier?"

"The… the connection with the Reapers. Commander. Same tech."

Shepard flushed slightly, grateful for the helmet. "Just making sure we're on the same page."

"Are we gonna kill these fuckers, or is this a tea party? Let's go!" Jack called from ahead.

"Jack, you will stay with the group."

"With you playing Captain Crazypants? I think I'm safer up here."

"Shep, I really think you should go back. If they don't trust your command-"

"That is enough," Shep shouted. She adjusted the controls on her mic so that her entire team could hear her. "If I have one more word of dissent from anyone on this mission, the offender will be shot in the head for insubordination. Is that clear?"

Grunt was the first to answer: "Strong command. I like it."

"Clear, Commander," Lawson and Taylor answered, voices overlapping.

Shepard looked to Jack, who was strolling back to stand by Kasumi.

"Yeah, whatever."

"I haven't said a thing yet, Commander."

Garrus was still close to Shepard, mouth hanging open, mandibles slack.

"What about you, Vakarian? You want to get shot today?"

"I'm good, Commander. Not another word."

"Good. Then can we please try to get there before it's too fucking late?"

Silent nods all around. Shep thought she saw mutiny in their eyes, but what the fuck? They could mutiny later, once they'd gotten the colonists back.


	28. Horizon, Part Two

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Horizon, Part Two

Garrus followed her silently, heart thudding a sick pattern in his chest. _What's happened? _This wasn't Shep. He knew she'd been having problems, but … threatening her own crew? It wasn't her.

Careful not to let Shep see him, he directed Jack and Kasumi behind her back, keeping an eye on their spacing, keeping them both away from her.

_She looked me right in the face and threatened to shoot me._

He couldn't make it make any sense. Garrus fought through what he assumed were Collectors, a four-eyed race that didn't look like any of the ones he knew, and wondered what could be done about Shep. When she was panicking about slavers, you needed to break her focus. When she was angry, she needed a spar. He didn't know what to do for her now.

"Fucking awesome," Shep muttered, throwing off her gloves and helmet to pick something up. This, too was unlike her; they were out in the damn open, anyone could take a shot. Garrus glanced to Jack before he jogged toward Shep, swerving through the new enemy corpses they'd just made while hoping Jack would be able to prevent that shot he feared was coming for Shep's head.

"What is it, Commander?"

For a moment, her eyes narrowed at him and her teeth bared; she turned slightly to hold her find away from him. Then, she seemed to re-think it, and let him see.

"Weapon," she said.

It was one of the Collector weapons, he saw, although that didn't grab his attention as much as the black lines across her hand did. They hadn't been so prominent, before. He hoped this behavioral change was the fault of whatever infection she seemed to be carrying. That should be fixable.

_Please, Spirits, let it be fixable._

"It's mine," Shepard warned. She took a threatening step towards him, and Garrus saw she had nearly stepped on a body. Not the Collector she had taken the weapon from, but a colonist who had been immobilized, one of many they kept stumbling across but couldn't help yet. And she was nearly stepping on them.

"Of course, Commander. Are we ready to -" He paused as he saw a tiny hooded figure wave from ahead, leaning out of a metal garage. "Commander, I think Kasumi has something."

Shep jogged toward the garage, Garrus and Jack following close. While Kasumi explained what the colonist who'd been hiding had told her about the guns, Garrus pulled Jack aside.

"I need to know if I can trust you," he said quietly.

"Me? I'm not the one who's running around all -"

"Simple question, Jack. Can I trust you, or not?"

Jack grinned. "If you're planning on taking her out, you'd better have a plan. I don't think you can survive a failed mutiny against this chick."

Garrus ground his teeth. The convict was too clever by half.

"I'm not mutinying. Not really. But she may see it that way. But I promise she'll never know you helped me. I just need to get her to see the doctor and get her well."

"Oooh, you must be in serious lust. Are you sure she's worth it?"

Garrus risked a glance to Shepard and Kasumi; they seemed to be finishing up their conversation.

"I don't have time for this," he hissed to Jack. "I need you to knock her out when I tell you. That's all. Can you manage that?"

"Sure thing, Spikes. But you do know you're ruining your chances with her, then, right? 'Cause she's not gonna like that."

Garrus was saved from answering by Kasumi's quiet cough, warning him that Shep was on the move. He quickly straightened up, trying not to look like he was plotting. Knowing she'd know it anyway.

"You think you can manage to get the gun linked up to EDI and get it firing?" Shep asked. The look in her eyes was no less than he had expected. He was dead to her, and if he couldn't fix her, he'd be dead in a very real way once the mission was over.

"Yes, Commander. I'll get it working."

"Good. Then let's go get it. Lawson," she barked into the omni-tool.

"_Yes, Commander."_

"How close are you to the rendez-vous?"

"_We're hacking a set of doors and should be at the cannons now."_

"This is our last chance, people. We want those colonists back alive."

#

Garrus ran for the control panel to the turret immediately, barely glancing at the empty space around it. He saw another set of garage doors open on the other side, and knew he was fully covered, no matter what started swarming them. He shuddered as a husk started screaming somewhere behind him, but ignored it, wrenching the panel open and getting to work.

"EDI, you there?" he yelled.

"_I am ready, Officer Vakarian. Establishing link."_

Garrus fidgeted while he waited. The battlefield was mostly husks in various states of alive or dead, and no one needed his help. He hadn't been noticed yet, so better to stay under cover for now and wait for EDI.

"Come on, come on, come on," he muttered.

After a moment, EDI spoke again, informing him that it would take a few minutes.

"Shit!" They didn't have time for this. "Just start firing at the Collector ship the second you can. Disable, don't destroy it. There are colonists on it already."

"_Understood, Officer Vakarian."_

Garrus looked around, noting that everyone seemed to be holding their own, except ….

Of course.

The crew had gravitated away from Shepard, and she walked backwards calmly, trying to shoot through the wave of husks before they overwhelmed her. Garrus started firing, picking off the outliers as he made his way toward her.

"Don't need your fucking help, Vakarian," she grumbled when he had reached her. He didn't answer that; there was no answer to give.

"What the fuck is that?" he asked instead, as a new enemy took the field.

"Assuming direct control," Shepard whispered.

"What?" He turned to stare at her. Her mouth kept moving, but she didn't say anything further. She kept her eyes locked on the various Reaper monstrosities as they cropped up, wincing slightly as each one was taken out. Where was Jack? He needed Jack. He gave a thought to knocking Shep out with his rifle butt, but that was a dangerous game. A bad hit could kill a person, and then where would they be?

"Praetorian," she breathed, and Garrus followed her gaze.

_Another fucking monster, and Shep's in love with the damn thing._

He sent a couple of rounds after it, but kept watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"This hurts you," Shep said, and Garrus lowered his rifle. Three different biotic attacks came together to kill the thing, anyway. They didn't need him.

_What am I supposed to do, Shep?_

EDI made a chiming noise over his comm as the cannon started to move, swinging around to bring down the Collector ship, finally. Whoever was running the ship seemed to realize the danger, as no new troops were coming from it, and the ship started to move sluggishly away from the colony. Shep's eyes still had a slightly glazed look and Garrus wondered if she even still remembered there were colonists to save.

EDI fired a shot across the bow of the collector ship. Garrus cheered silently as it wobbled, struggling to leave orbit. One more good shot might ground it. _Come on, EDI. _

The cannon groaned as it lined up again, preparing to fire.

Then several Alliance ships appeared, rapidly decelerating.

"No!" Garrus yelled. The Alliance ships narrowly avoided a collision, but were blocking a clear shot to the Collector vessel.

"EDI, fire it anyway! Now, before we lose them." It wasn't fair. They'd almost had them. He knew the answer even before EDI replied.

"_I'm sorry, Officer Vakarian. I am unable to fire if -"_

Garrus switched off his comm so he didn't have to hear it.

#

As the Collector ship escaped, the Alliance ships drew closer.

_They didn't even give chase,_ Garrus thought bitterly. What the hell was the point? They may as well have stayed home. Shepard's team straggled back towards her, but Garrus noticed they weren't really Shep's team, now; not fully. While Grunt clearly had eyes only for his battlemaster, the others positioned themselves oriented around Garrus. It was subtle, as were the looks they kept giving him. They knew there was a problem, and they expected him to fix it, somehow. Well, fine. It would probably get him killed, but fine. Shep was glaring at him as he noticed all this. Of course if he saw it, she would, too. He was going to be dead before he could make a move.

"Shepard," called a familiar voice, and they all turned.

"Alenko?" Shep asked, surprise bleeding the rage from her voice; Garrus hadn't expected that.

Garrus wanted to glare, but couldn't. Whether he liked him or not, the smarmy prick had just saved his life without knowing.

"I thought you were dead," Alenko said, confusion apparent on his face.

_Oh, I dealt with it better than that._

"I was, Alenko. Now I'm not." Shep's voice was steady. Why the hell wasn't she furious with him, too?

"And the first thing you do is go to Cerberus? Garrus, too? You left the Alliance, everything we stood for?"

_Ease up, Alenko. Not the best day for that._

"So I'm a traitor? Did that happen before or after I went to the Alliance and Council for help, and they turned me away? Again?"

Garrus shifted towards her. Whenever she decided to kill Alenko, that would be Garrus's chance to subdue her.

She probably wouldn't expect it, coming from him.

"I'm an Alliance man through and through. I know where my loyalties lie. I thought you did, too."

Shepard shook with rage, but she let him walk away.

_Now? You learn self-control now?_

He just waited. He was too close to solicit Jack's help. Too close to move away without her noticing. Even if she was glaring at the cruisers, calculating her odds of survival if she killed their man.

Garrus held himself steady, not flinching when her gaze finally fell on him.

"Back to the ship," she growled. She looked around and saw that no one was moving. "All of you!" she shouted, and everyone seemed to get it into gear together.

Garrus moved slowly, keeping his eyes on her face. This may be a reprieve, but it was only temporary. She knew he was planning something, and he knew that meant she would kill him as soon as they got back to the ship. He'd only get the one chance to defend himself.

_Please, let me be able to help her without hurting her too much._


	29. Butting Heads

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Butting Heads

Shepard was inside the _Normandy _just ahead of her team, throwing her helmet and shucking her armor. Bullshit mission. Bullshit Kaidan Alenko. And bullshit crew, questioning her. Judging her. She'd have to deal with them.

_Kill them, _came the whisper. Yes, probably. Re-instill some discipline. Some healthy fear.

That was the problem, she decided, watching them file in. They were ready to move against her. They weren't afraid.

And she knew just who to blame, oversized fucking stupid bird in his blue armor. Taking his armor off, just like she did, as the others exchanged worried glances. This was his fault.

_Kill him._

"Commander Shepard?" he asked. "May I have a private word with you?"

Shepard grinned. That was just fine; he might think this was his conversation, but she had a few things to say to him, as well.

Some of them with her rifle, maybe.

"Clear the room," she told the others, and they did. But not before throwing those annoying save-me looks at the turian. No, this would not do at all. She grabbed her pistol, strapping it back onto her undersuit. He didn't have any weapons.

Good.

"Commander, would you lock the door? I don't want to risk anyone overhearing."

Shepard turned to lock it. Yeah, privacy would be better for what she had to say to him. She was expecting his whining.

What she wasn't expecting was to feel her face driven forward into the solid metal door, without ever having heard him move.

#

Garrus didn't stop at the first strike. If this didn't work, she'd kill him, he knew that.

Shit, even if it _did _ work, she'd probably kill him.

He grabbed her pistol as she bounced back, managing to get a hand on it just before she did. Even half-conscious, she was still fast. He hit her in the face as she turned, wishing he dared to not hurt her quite so badly. Even if she recovered from whatever this was, she was never going to forgive him. If he didn't strike decisively, though, she would win. He couldn't take that risk.

He was on her as she fell, fighting flailing limbs and trying desperately to get the gun away before she managed to shoot him.

_Spirits, why are you making me do this, Shep? _he wondered as he drove his plated face forward into hers.

Her eyes finally glazed slightly, though it was hard to tell with the blood and the strange black fluid streaming from her nose and forehead. He took advantage of the very temporary weakness, he was sure, and flipped her. In a moment, he had a knee in her back and her own pistol against the back of her skull.

_Shep, I'm so sorry._

"You just made your last mistake, Spikes," she growled. Her words were mushy, and he hoped he hadn't broken any teeth. If he had, it was unavoidable.

"Maybe," he answered. It was true, he might have made a fatal error. This might end with one or both of them dead. But this wasn't Shep, and if he couldn't get her to see that, it didn't matter. Within the week, she'd lose the crew's faith in her, and after that, nothing. No fighting the Collectors. No one to argue for fighting the Reapers. Shepard executed after some hasty court-martial. This was the only thing he could think to do.

"Here's how this is going to go," he said. "I'm going to let you up. You're going to go calmly to the infirmary with me. No one has to know it wasn't your idea. You're going to let Chakwas treat you. You understand?"

"I'm going to rip the fringe right off your head, cocksucker."

Garrus's heart twinged. She'd never spoken to him like this. _It's not really her,_ he tried to convince himself.

"Well, this is the part you'll like, then. If you still feel this way after treatment, you can execute me. I won't argue. I'll admit to anything you accuse me of, in front of the whole crew."

Shepard lay still beneath him. What was she thinking? Was she evaluating her chances of being able to overpower him? Considering exactly how she would mete out his punishment?

"Let me up, then." She braced her hands against the floor, ready to push herself to her feet.

"I'll need your word, first." Even with that assurance, it was risky. She'd been different since she'd come back, but this … he didn't know if there was enough Shep left to make a deal with.

"Have it your way, turian. I get treated today, I kill you tomorrow. Agreed?"

"Fine." Garrus got up slowly, braced for the attack. He would have to fight back. He could still try knocking her out, forcing her to a hospital. Of course, even if they got the real Shep back, he'd be dead to her. Metaphorically, if not literally.

Shepard pushed to her feet and turned to face him, hand out.

"Give me my gun."

"Commander, wipe your face. We're going to walk by the entire crew."

Shepard pulled the neck of her tank up through her undersuit and scraped it down her face once, not bothering to really try.

"Give me my gun," she repeated.

Garrus didn't know if she was going to kill him with it, or abide by the deal. If she killed him, there was nothing left he could do to help her. He handed it over, and was mildly reassured when she holstered it.

"You're dead by this time tomorrow, turian."

_I'm dead now, Shep. You made me hold a gun to your head._

"If that's what you want," he said levelly. "Are we going to the infirmary?"

"I gave my word, didn't I?"

Garrus wanted to weep. He'd heard those words before, from his Shep. Not this hateful imitation.

"So lead the way, Spikes."

#

Garrus walked her through the ship, heading for the infirmary. He let Shep lead, but he caught the glances from the rest of the crew.

_They know. If Shep realizes that, I'm dead for sure. _

It didn't matter. If he could get her to get treatment, he'd done his job. It wasn't fair to ask any more of him.

"Commander Shepard?"

"Not now, Lawson," Garrus snapped. If he let Lawson distract her, he'd never get Shep to the infirmary. He placed a hand on the small of Shepard's back to keep her moving. She balked instead, glaring at him until he broke contact.

"What, Lawson?" Shepard's tone was brusque, but far from the one she'd used on mission.

Lawson's eyes darted from Shepard to Garrus, then back again, as if she were unsure of who was truly in command at this moment.

_Well, that's it. You've just sung my funeral song._

"Lawson," Shepard warned.

"It's the Illusive Man. He wants to speak with you. Also, he's sent -"

"I'm on my way to the doctor to get patched up. Can you handle it?"

"Oh!" Lawson's eyes settled on Garrus and she smiled slightly. "All right, then. I'll take care of this. Feel better. The Illusive Man's sent more dossiers for crewmen, but you can look at those whenever you're ready."

She seemed like she was fully prepared to keep talking indefinitely, so Garrus looked at her pointedly. She got the message to move along, leaving him and Shep to continue on their way.

#

"My goodness, Commander, what happened?"

Garrus shook his head at Chakwas in warning.

"Shit happens on mission. Not important. Need you to clear off the infection again."

"Of course, Commander. Lie down. I'll just need to …" Chakwas trailed off, looking to Garrus to for direction.

_Why me? Why always me?_

Garrus sighed internally as Shepard hopped up onto the narrow metal cot.

"She needs to put you out, Shepard."

"The hell she does," Shep snarled.

"Commander, it would be better -"

"Don't bother, doctor." Garrus stalked to where Shep was sitting and planted his hands on either side of her thighs, bringing his face close to hers.

"We had an agreement," he said quietly. "You consented to treatment. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so already. There wouldn't be a reason to drag you all the way down here. Now lie down and let her work."

Shepard's eyes flicked between him and Chakwas, thinking; evaluating.

"Tomorrow," she promised him, lying down on the cot.

Chakwas came over with a hypodermic and within a few minutes Shepard was drifting off, clearly fighting the sedative but unable to triumph over it.

"How bad is it? And what did she mean by 'tomorrow?' Anything to do with me having to set her nose again while she's out?" Chakwas asked, her voice pitched low enough for Shepard to miss it.

"If you can't treat her, or if she's still like this when she wakes, she's going to execute me."

"Oh, Garrus. There wasn't any other way -"

"No. There wasn't." He stared at the doctor until she finally nodded, backing down.

"All right. Well, this is going to take a while. You might as well get some rest. You look like you could use some."

That was no lie. Garrus tried to remember a time he'd ever felt so soul-tired; he couldn't think of one.

"The moment she wakes up -" he started.

"I will call you." Chakwas started ushering him through the door. Before he'd decided whether to go along with it or resist, he found himself in the hallway with the medbay door closed against him.

It didn't seem right to sleep if it was his last day. Besides, if he knew Shep, she'd wake early. He would want to know what her mood was immediately. However, staying up seemed like a stupid idea, too. He didn't have the focus to work on anything and his other option was calling his father again, to tell him how badly he'd fucked up. Again.

Garrus decided to find something in the mess, eat as much of it as he could, then sleep it off. Ship food would make a shitty last meal, but you had to work with what you had.

#

"Who the fuck gave me ryncol?" Shep slurred.

"Oh, good. You're back with us." Chakwas appeared hovering over her, shining a much-too-bright flashlight at her eyes. "Follow the light, please."

Shepard did as she was told and was rewarded with being allowed to sit up.

"Well, I think you're stable again. But you can't keep doing this. I simply don't have the equipment for what you need. Not to mention, you need a diagnosis for this so we can fix it, and I don't have the equipment for that, either."

"Soon enough." Shep tried to hop down from the bed and staggered. Chakwas did not offer a hand.

"Am I cleared, Doctor?"

"Does it matter? It doesn't seem like anyone can stop you, anyway." Chakwas turned away and Shep took the opportunity to slip through the door. As she left, she heard Chakwas talking to Garrus. She could stay, but he'd be able to find her anyway. He always knew where to find her.

#

The elevator doors opened on the wrong floor, and her favorite turian was waiting.

"Garrus." She grinned at him. She was still a little light-headed, but she felt pretty good, all things considered.

Garrus entered the elevator, staring at her. He was holding his mandibles tight in a look Shepard couldn't quite read.

"See something you like?" she asked, and he visibly relaxed.

"You don't remember yesterday at all, do you?"

"Hmm. I vaguely recall Horizon. Alenko is a wank, by the way. But you knew that. After that -"

Garrus crossed his arms. "How about before that? You threatened to shoot me in the head if I questioned you. Or we could talk about after the mission, if you like. I had to subdue you and put a gun to your head to get you to go to the damn doctor, and you promised to kill me in the morning. Which would you prefer to discuss?" His mandibles flared slowly, back and forth.

_Well, now I know how to identify turian rage._

"Jesus, Garrus. I don't know what happened. I'll keep a better eye on this thing. Hey, you want to get a quick spar in before the next mission? I just gotta get with Lawson and find out, you know, what it is."

"No, I don't want to - Shepard, what do you mean, 'next mission?' Chakwas can't fix you. You need to go to a medical center."

Shep shook her head. "No, Garrus. I know we lost too many colonists on Horizon. Every day we're not fighting the Collectors … I've got to stop them, big guy. I don't have time for breaks."

Garrus whirled away, but not before she saw his mouth drop open. "I can't," he muttered. "I can't do this."

"What?"

"I can't do this, Shepard. I have to watch you every second to be sure you don't - and you're not - No. I'm out. Resigned. Drop me off somewhere." He leaned against the wall of the elevator.

_Shit. _ Shepard slammed her fist down on the emergency stop. This wasn't a conversation she wanted the crew to hear. She knew they'd seen her weak, but Garrus had picked up the slack. She needed him strong until she'd restored their faith in her.

"C'mon, Garrus. I need you. Remember? You're supposed to kick my ass back in line when I need it."

"Shep, I've tried." Garrus slid slowly down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, hands dangling between his knees. "You're not even meeting me halfway. Shep, I -" Garrus swallowed hard. He wouldn't look at her anymore. "Shepard, when you died, it nearly killed me. I … I never thought I would see you again, and then you were there. Like a miracle of nature. Unable to even stay dead. The cavalry arrives, just in time. But this, Shep … I keep trying, then something else happens. If you're determined to die again, I can't stop you. I won't. But I don't have to watch. I'll go home to Palaven. Re-enlist, maybe. Help with my mother. I don't … Shep, I can't do this anymore. You're making it too hard."

Shep stood quietly for a long moment. She felt her face tighten. He couldn't do this to her. He just couldn't.

"Garrus, I didn't know you … I'm sorry."

"Oh, now you learn a new word." He chuckled then, and the despair in the sound cut her.

_Why are you even keeping him at arm's length? He's the only one who's always there._

"Take a break, big guy. Take a few missions off. You need the rest, and I've got Jack and Grunt to help out now."

"No, Shepard. I told you, I'm done." He continued to stare at the floor between his feet. Shepard wondered how badly she'd hurt him with distance. She'd known there was something. And ignoring it had done this to him, when she'd never seen him falter in anything before.

She knelt in front of him, leaning towards him.

"Shepard -"

She stopped his protest by planting a slow kiss on his mouth plates. She knew turians didn't typically kiss, but surely -

Yes. He was responding. His hands fluttered a moment, unsure, before they landed on her waist. He groaned into her open mouth, pulling her closer. Shepard wondered why she'd waited so long, letting her hands slide over his cowl, finding the sensitive plating at the base of his fringe.

And then he pushed her away firmly, eyes off to the side.

"Look, Shep …" His voice shook, and he took a deep breath and tried again. "I don't know exactly what it is you're offering, here. But whatever it is, it's not going to make me stay. I can't watch you kill yourself."

Shep felt her cheeks flame. "That isn't what I was - Dammit, Garrus." She sat back on her heels, now not looking at him, either.

_Good job. He's been panting after you for ages, and you've managed to get him to turn you down. You must have some kind of special skill, there._

"EDI, you have more files for people. Who's at a major hub?"

"_Dossiers indicate that both an assassin and a Justicar may be on Illium, capitol of-"_

"Great. Chakwas?"

It took a little longer for the doctor to respond. When she did, she sounded slightly out of breath.

"_Yes, Commander?"_

"This equipment you need for me. You can find it on Illium?"

There was no pause for this answer, and Chakwas's voice was pure relief.

"_Yes, Commander."_

"There, Garrus. Alright?"

"No, Shep. Hospital. Labs. Cure."

"You said meet you halfway."

Garrus sighed, running a hand down his face. "Fine. But if you ignore me one more time when I'm trying to help you -"

"I won't. Promise. I will, however be avoiding you during off hours for the next couple of weeks." She rose and took a few steps back. Her eyes stung a little but she tried to ignore them. "If I'd had any idea you were going to turn me down flat -"

"Shepard, no." Garrus scrambled to his feet, drawing her into his arms. He rested his forehead on hers, running his talons through her curls. "Shep, never. I just - it sounded like you were trying to - Never mind. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it at all. Please, Shep."

"Then maybe … maybe after I get back from mission … would you want to spend the evening in my cabin?"

Garrus froze, and Shepard clarified quickly.

"A date. Just - I mean, like a holo. Or something."

_Dammit. _She wondered what was a brighter red right now, her face, or the most serious warning lights on Joker's dash.

"Shepard, I have been waiting for an evening with you for years." He cupped his hand on her cheek and drew her mouth up for another kiss. Shepard melted into it, cursing herself again for having waited so long.


	30. Something That Can't Be Killed

Chapter Thirty

Something That Can't Be Killed

Garrus stealthily moved from the elevator to the door of Shepard's cabin. He knew she was on Illium, and that no one else would be up here. Still, he placed his feet quietly, and had his visor scan to make sure no one was in the cabin before he started hacking the door.

EDI was on to him before he'd even gotten it open.

"_Officer Vakarian, Commander Shepard has not given access to her cabin to anyone."_

Garrus growled a little, but tried to keep it out of his tone. "It's all right, EDI. This is for a surprise. She won't mind."

"_Officer Vakarian, I am not programmed to change my procedures based on what someone would 'mind.'"_

"Look, don't worry about it. She's not on board, so I'm the commanding officer right now."

"_I will have to inform her of this breach when she resumes command of the vessel."_

"Oh, come on!" He stopped his work on the lock to address the ceiling. He knew she wasn't up there, but it was sometimes still difficult for him to address a voice coming from nowhere. "She's not gonna ask, just don't tell her. I'll tell her myself, but later. I swear to you she won't mind."

Garrus waited while EDI processed this new information.

"_If you do not inform Commander Shepard in a timely manner, I will be forced to do so."_

"Fine. Now will you let me work?"

Instead, the door slid open.

"_Since it is inevitable that you will breach the door, this will save time while preventing damage to her locks."_

"Um … thank you." Why did AIs have to act so weird?

Garrus stepped through the doorway and froze in horror.

_Dear spirits, it's worse than last time. Does the woman never clean?_

He stepped gingerly around piles of clothing, accidentally kicking what he devoutly hoped was not a cereal bowl still half-full of milk. The bowl slid aways, but the "liquid" in it never moved. His stomach lurched and he concentrated on breathing shallowly through his mouth. There was a distinct odor of _something _in her cabin, and he did not want to be able to identify it.

_Just figure out which fish she has and get out. Get out fast. Then burn her cabin to the ground._

Garrus reached the tank, pretending he had not just stepped in something sticky. All he wanted to know was which fish she had, so when he bought her more, they wouldn't fight.

The fish were all dead, grim little reminders of his love's efficient deadliness. Even when inadvertent.

_Well, that figures. Now what?_ He certainly couldn't get her more fish. How could such a competent adult be incapable of keeping a few little fish alive? He glanced around at the state of the rest of the room. Half a rifle appeared to be disassembled on the bed, the rest of it nowhere to be seen. Every article of clothing she owned seemed to be flung on the floor, half of them damp and headed for mildewed. The bottom of his boot was still sticky, and he was quite frankly a little frightened to look at it.

_Maybe "competent adult" is stretching it a little._

"EDI," he called, making his way back to the door. _Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down…._

"_Yes, Officer Vakarian?"_

"Don't you have some kind of cleaning protocol?"

"_Yes, Officer Vakarian. But my mobile platform does not have access to Commander Shepard's loft."_

There was a pause, and Garrus thought she had finished speaking. When she came back there was something odd about her tone, and he wondered again why AIs had to be so weird.

"_It is recommended that if you have any open cuts on your person that you present yourself to Dr. Chakwas immediately after leaving Shepard's room."_

He didn't have much time to think about her tone, however. He was too busy fleeing Shep's room and sprinting for the decontamination chamber, certain that he heard something making a skittering noise behind the dresser.

#

Later, Garrus found himself wandering through pet shops in Nos Astra. He knew she liked pets. He knew she preferred to have a small animal, to keep quiet company when she was alone.

_Why does she kill them, though?_ He approached an asari clerk, waiting until she turned her attention to him.

"How can I help you, sir?"

"I need something that can't be killed."

"E-excuse me?"

Garrus ran back what he'd said silently, and realized what had caused the other few customers in the shop to stop what they were doing to stare at him. Mandibles tucked, he stammered through a long explanation about a kid and a birthday party.

"Basically, the poor kid can't keep a fish alive, and I need something hardier," he finished. _You are the worst liar. No one believes you._ Well, they certainly wouldn't believe him if he told them it was a grown adult incapable of keeping fish, let alone the galaxy's heroine, poster child for the Alliance, Commander Shepard.

_Maybe I should get her a robot varren or something._

"Some children do well with … hamsters?" the clerk suggested. Her eyes were very wide as she spoke, and he just knew she was wondering what they were doing with the poor animals.

"Show me the hamsters, then."

An hour later, Garrus left the store with a glass terrarium tucked under his arm and a bag of supplies and instructional manuals. The creature was tiny and fluffy, everything humans were supposed to find adorable. It stood with its tiny paws on the glass, seeming to look right at Garrus.

"I'm sure she can keep you alive," Garrus told it. "She just has to keep your food-bowl and tube of water full. She can manage it."

Tiny black beads stared into his soul, asking how he could do such a thing. Garrus could almost hear it squeak that it had never done anything to him.

"I promise you, buddy, you'll get a hero's funeral if she kills you." Once again, Garrus became aware that people were pausing in their business to look at him. Garrus hurried away, wondering if whatever had caused Shepard's crazy might be catching.

He still had to find something to wear; he owned nothing right now other than his damaged armor. And something to drink might be nice, something neutral that they'd be able to share. Garrus shifted from foot to foot, trying to decide whether to bring the little fuzzbeast back to the ship, or finish his shopping with it.

_It should come with me. It might be the last outing the little guy has._

A beep on his omni-tool brought him out of his own thoughts. He had a message. He stopped at a café, setting down the animal's cage and the bags of supplies he'd bought to ensure its life.

_It's from Shepard!_ His heart lurched and his mandibles pulled wide in a grin.

"_So, I'm back at the ship… were you coming by?"_

Garrus typed his reply, hesitating on each word.

"_Definitely. Just getting a bit of shopping done?"_

"_Sure. So … maybe sixish?"_

"_Do you want me to bring something for us to eat?"_

"_If you don't mind?"_

"_Then I'll be in about sevenish? Does that work?"_

"_Sure."_

Somewhere, some teacher of grammar was writhing in agony from their insecure overuse of interrogatives, Garrus thought.

_Okay, so something to wear, food, drink … oh, shit, I'm forgetting the holovids._ Garrus sighed to himself. He really should have gotten the sacrifice - er, replacement pet, he corrected, last.

#

Garrus stood in front of Shepard's cabin door, hamster cage in his arms and the rest of his bags by his feet. He straightened his new tunic. Was blue too forward? The color didn't mean the same things to humans. They favored red for those things … but then, he couldn't remember ever seeing a human male in red … maybe blue _was_ too provocative?

_Or maybe I'm looking for any reason to stall. _He glanced at the time on his omni-tool. Still five minutes 'til. He didn't want to be too early, right? Not appear too eager?

_You brought her a pet. I don't think the five extra minutes are what's making you look desperate._ Garrus sighed. This was stupid. This wasn't going to work. He needed to flee; he could still keep his perfect fantasy, if it was never tested.

Just before he could convince himself to run away, his hand reached out to knock. The door opened instantly; Garrus's heart thumped alarmingly when he realized she must have been waiting on the other side.

"So," he said.

"So," she agreed, half behind the door. She appeared to be wearing a dress; nothing as daring as the one Kasumi had forced her into that one time -

_Focus, Vakarian._

They stood uncomfortably for a minute before anyone could speak.

_This is awkward. _Garrus shuffled his feet, then realized his hands were slipping. In a moment, he was going to drop the glass container, and splatter hamster all over the floor.

_Well, at least this one wouldn't be her fault._

"Here," he said, thrusting the cage at her.

"What's this?" Shepard peered into the cage, but the creature was sensibly hiding in the little wooden house Garrus had bought it.

"They said it was a hamster. They're supposed to be … ah, more resilient than fish."

"What? What's wrong with my … dammit." Shepard had turned to look at the aquarium on the wall and finally noticed them. "I'll have to get some more."

"Please don't."

Shepard laughed a little.

"Let me go set this guy down." She disappeared for a moment, still chuckling and using that weird human baby-voice to coo at the hamster. Spirits, it was nice to hear her laugh. When she returned to the doorway, still half-hidden, Garrus found himself checking for black in her veins, any sign that she wasn't feeling well, and made himself stop.

"So … was Chakwas able to help with anything more … consistent, I guess?"

Shepard groaned, and finally stepped away from the door so Garrus could see her.

"What the hell is that?" he asked.

Shepard had tubes running from her arm going into what looked like an old-fashioned oversized radio on the ground. Now without the door to block it, he could hear a quiet shirring sound as whatever-it-was worked, moving blood through one tube, and nearly-black fluid through another.

"It's my portable dialysis machine," Shep admitted. "Cleans the stuff out constantly. I can only take it off on-mission. I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh, Shep, I'm sorry …."

Shepard crossed her arms, not looking at him. He thought she was blushing a little. He stepped forward to cup a hand on her cheek.

"We'll get it really fixed after the Collectors. It won't be like this for long."

Shepard shrugged. He could only imagine what it was like for her, to have to display any weakness so openly.

"Shall I bring the food in?" he asked, gesturing towards the bags.

"Sure." Shepard stepped back, picking up her horrible machine and carrying it over to the couch.

Garrus stopped in shock again at entering her apartment. His mandibles flailed while he tried to think of something to say.

"What … did something happen? Am I in the wrong room?"

Garrus looked around, taking in the uncluttered floor, the lack of any food waste left behind.

"I cleaned up a little. No big deal." She collapsed on the couch, rearranging her tubes to be out of her way. "Gimme food, I'm hungry."

Garrus remembered himself and sat next to her on the couch, opening up various to-go boxes and showing her which were hers. He couldn't keep the grin off his face. Shepard knew he was uncomfortable in mess, and she had actually done something for him. Something nice, something that wasn't required by a mission.

_I love you, _he thought at her before biting his tongue. He'd told her several times already, and she hadn't reciprocated. He only had to not ruin it until she was ready.


	31. First Date

Chapter Thirty-One

First Date

"Jeez, did you get enough food?" Shep asked.

"Wasn't sure what you'd like."

Shepard looked around at the boxes of food and grabbed one of the ones he'd pointed out was levo.

"It all looks good," she said, biting into a giant cheeseburger. She moaned at the taste. This was nothing like ship food.

Garrus dug into a kebab meal he'd brought and they ate quietly for a few minutes, neither knowing what to say.

"So … pretty awkward, then," Shep said, licking the last of the juices from the burger off her hand.

"Oh, I forgot." Garrus set his plate down, still half-full, and dug around in the bags. "Wine."

"Oh, thank God," Shep said, and they laughed as Garrus uncorked it. Lacking any cups, she shrugged and drank directly from the bottle before handing it back.

"It's not that awkward." Garrus took a long drink to wash down the lie. "So, uh … how was the mission?"

"Oh, that." Shep rolled her eyes and started in on her French fries.

_How on earth does she manage to eat like that? _Garrus wondered, half-listening as she told about picking up the assassin, Thane Krios, and the Justicar, an asari named Samara. He tried to listen harder, but his focus kept being drawn to the way she licked her lips after each bite. If he leaned in himself, she would taste like salt.

"And Lawson was out with Taylor, meanwhile, trying to find her sister."

"What? Lawson has a sister?"

Shep nodded. "Yup. A … younger twin? Or clone, maybe. Not sure. But anyway, they saved her, so there's that."

"Oh." Garrus nodded slowly. He hadn't gone back to his food, unsure whether the fluttering in his stomach was a warning. Shep had gotten down to her last fry and was shredding it slowly into tiny bites. Was she just as nervous? Garrus swallowed.

"So … I picked up a holo, if you -"

"Yes, that sounds great." Some of the tense look left her face.

"Where's your vid screen?" he asked, looking around. Shep reached back and pushed a button on her model ship case, turning the side of it opaque.

"Oh." Mandibles flailed slowly. "So, if the screen is there … that puts us … on the bed."

Shep was staring carefully at the floor. "Well, I mean, we could try to watch it from here, but we'd probably hurt our necks." A blush rose in her cheeks and Garrus felt his mandibles tucking in response.

"We're not, ah … I mean, not tonight …" he stammered.

"No, I think … um, some other night?"

"Yes. That's good. We'll take it slow, Shep."

That settled, they were both able to relax a bit, although neither moved toward the bed.

"So … why don't you start the holo, and I'll just duck into your restroom for a second?" He dug around in the bags one more time and grabbed the first holo, the beginning of a trilogy. If she liked it, it guaranteed two more evenings together.

"Sure," Shep said, taking the holo.

Garrus made his way into the bathroom, marveling again that he didn't have to climb over piles of clothes and mess to get there. He shut the door so he could splash water on his face. Was it going well, or not? He couldn't tell. His heart was racing, though, and they'd both agreed to hold off a little while ….

As he dried his face, he heard a low moan from the other side of the door and felt an immediate response below the belt.

_Dear spirits, she's changed her mind, and also started without me._ He paused with his hand on the door, a thousand panicked thoughts screaming for attention.

_What if I'm too alien! What if she doesn't like it! What if she laughs!_

_Oh, keep it together, would you? It's just –_

Garrus didn't know what it was "just;" all thought ended when he heard the double-timbered tones from the bedroom.

_What the hell? I'm the only turian on this – Oh, no._

"_Harder, you plate-faced bastard,"_ the woman moaned, and that was not Shep's voice.

_Oh spirits please no._ He stood frozen for another moment before he managed to wrench the door open. Shep stood in front of the bed, the vidscreen remote in hand and mouth hanging open.

"_So soft,"_ the on-screen turian growled.

"Turn it off, turn it off!" Garrus yelled. He reached for the remote, but Shep pulled it behind her back, trying to watch the screen over his shoulder.

"Interesting holo pick, big guy. Is he, uh … average for –"

Garrus yanked the remote out of her hand and slammed the buttons randomly, desperate to stop the vid. Mercifully, the screen shut down. The room was silent while he tried to find an explanation for her, something that wouldn't leave her disgusted with him.

"That was the wrong one," he tried.

"No kidding?"

He risked a glance up to her face, and saw that her lips kept trying to twitch into a smile. He mumbled something, not going for any words, just hoping to delay her.

"What was that, big guy?"

"Bought them for research." He wrung his hands.

"So, I guess you wanna pretend this didn't happen?"

"Please."

"Then maybe you should grab the holo you _intended_ to put on."

Garrus pulled the wrong holo out of the vidscreen's slot and found the correct one to replace it. Still not looking at her, he sat on one side of the bed, leaving plenty of room for her to sit.

She wasn't sitting. Instead, she had both hands wrapped around her dialysis machine, holding it close to her chest as her teeth worried her bottom lip.

"Shep? Are you mad? I didn't mean to -"

She shook her head. "Not mad. Just … this isn't the part I'm good at."

"You mean the, ah …." He glanced rapidly to the vidscreen that was still off, then down to the bed.

"_Not _that part. I'm good at that. Great, even." Shep blushed as she realized what she'd said. "Not the point. No, I mean, the … the sitting together part. The talking part. Never … actually done that part." She kept her eyes low, missing the stunned expression Garrus was sure he would not be able to get under control.

"So you've … you've never found someone who -"

"Exactly. I've never found someone 'who.'" Shep shifted slightly, trying to keep the heavy-looking machine from dropping.

"Well … why don't you just sit down with me, and we'll watch the holo?" He patted the bed next to him, trying to look non-threatening. Shep approached slowly, setting her machine down next to the bed before sitting down herself. Garrus wanted to put an arm around her, but she looked as though she'd take flight if he made a move.

"So, what holo did you get?" She folded her hands in her lap, looking blankly ahead.

"A spaghetti western. You'll like it, the guy in it reminds me of you -"

"A what now?"

"Spaghetti western."

Shep finally looked at him, albeit with a confusion that had him checking if the translator had given up.

"Yeah, check the translator. It's glitching. Unless you're going to make me pasta?"

"Pasta – no, Shep, it's just - It's just what they're called. They're from Earth, how do you not know this?"

"I'm not from Earth."

"It's your culture, though."

"Just tell me what it is, already."

Garrus sighed. "Cowboys. Cowboys and gunfighters and shooting the bad guys."

Shep made a face.

"How can you not love that, Shep?"

"It sounds like work. You even said, he reminds you of me."

"Well, no, that's because he's called 'The Man with no Name.' I thought of that when you first told me you didn't know your first name. Just, please watch it with me. You'll enjoy it, I promise." He placed his hand on her leg as he tried to convince her, only noticing afterward that they'd been gradually moving towards one another.

Garrus pulled back, trying not to let his mandibles tuck, but Shep leaned against him, snuggling into his side. He let his arm drop around her shoulders, looking for all the world as if it belonged right there.

"Do I have a choice about enjoying this holo?"

"Not even slightly," he replied, starting it up.

#

Garrus's heart thumped as he walked back to his bunk in the battery, arms full of leftovers and holos. She had complained some, but he thought she was enjoying the holo by the end, the way she'd been yelling at the screen. His mandibles spread wide as he thought of the soft kiss he'd stolen at the door. She'd leaned into him, gentle curves promising things he could only dream of for now. And they would watch the second movie of the trilogy tomorrow – or tonight, rather; it was early morning already.

Garrus paused to shove the food containers into the fridge in Gardner's kitchen, then glanced through the holos he'd bought.

_Wait, that's not right._ He counted again, then looked closely at the titles. He had all three of the westerns here, but he was missing one of the others …. Garrus traced his steps back to the kitchen, wondering where he could have left it. He hadn't set them down since –

_Oh, spirits. _ He hadn't set them down since Shep had handed him the stack at the door. If there was one missing, she had kept it deliberately. If she was watching it right now ….

_Shut it down, Vakarian. We agreed to take it slow._

Garrus scurried back to his bunk, knowing sleep would be a long time coming. Somewhere above him on the ship, his Shepard was doing some research of her own.


	32. Ardat-Yakshi

Chapter Thirty-Two

Ardat-Yakshi

Garrus gaped at her, disbelief warring with wanting to shake her until she showed some sense. Disbelief won out, barely, so he tried to convince her to act sensibly instead.

"No, Shepard. This is unacceptable. You're in no condition to do this. Going to Omega, with Aria probably still pissed? And this Samara woman is hunting an ardat-yakshi –" Garrus's mouth snapped shut as she interrupted him.

"Her daughter. I know." Shep stared him down. He understood why she felt she had to do this; he just didn't want to let her.

Garrus sighed. His hand reached out to her, pulled back, then changed course again and settled lightly on her arm, next to her dialysis ports; he was trying to remind her that she wasn't at her best. "Shep, I get it. I really do. But it's just too dangerous right now."

"There isn't another time. I'll be okay, Garrus. I promise."

He wanted to believe her. More than that, he wanted to throw her over his shoulder, carry her back to her cabin, and make her forget about the ardat-yakshi. Let Samara talk Lawson into helping.

She wouldn't be his Shep if she didn't insist on doing all the difficult things herself.

"How are you going to do anything with your new hardware?" he asked, indicating the machine circulating her blood. In response, she yanked out the tubes. His stomach did a few barrel rolls as a pattering of black and red dripped from the plastic.

"Spirits, Shep –"

"I can take them out for missions. Now, if you wanted to do me a favor, you can get this to Chakwas so she can replace the tubing. I've gotta go. I'll be back soon." Garrus glanced over to the doorway where the asari Justicar Samara waited, pretending not to be able to hear them.

Garrus swept Shep into a quick hug, briefly touching his forehead to hers. "I'll see you when you get back."

Shep nodded, smiling at him before gesturing to Samara. Then the two left the _Normandy, _leaving Garrus with a sickening feeling that he might not see her ever again.

#

"She's tougher than she looks," Chakwas reminded him.

"Sure. All the toughest people die if you stop artificially cycling their blood for them," Garrus said. He was sitting on an infirmary bed, irritating Chakwas since he couldn't work. His stomach kept tying itself into new and interesting knots. For her part, the doctor kept reassuring him, although the strain on her face was becoming more apparent the longer he was there.

"You don't understand –" he started again, before being interrupted by EDI.

"_Officer Vakarian, there is an urgent call for Commander Shepard."_

"I'll get it," he said, getting up to head for the debrief room. He heard Chakwas mutter "Thank goodness" behind him as he left. He wove through Cerberus personnel, wanting to snap, wanting to demand to know why they hadn't gone to protect her, but he knew already. Same reason he hadn't gone; she said she had to go without all the backup. Couldn't spook their prey. Their prey who happened to be an asari who murdered people by literally blowing their minds during sex. He tried not to think about how, exactly, they were planning on catching her. Or why Shep had been wearing civvies instead of armor when she left.

Garrus reached the debrief and told EDI to send the call through. Liara's open, innocent face appeared and she started speaking before realizing it wasn't Shep.

"Shepard, I still needed your help and I was wondering when – oh, it's you." She made a moue of distaste and her tone immediately became cold. "So you're with her again, I see?"

"It's nice to talk to you, Liara," he said. His mandibles were thrumming lightly. He still couldn't forget the last time he had spoken with her; she had seemed to be threatening him against coming back to see Shep.

"Where is Commander Shepard?" she demanded.

"I've been well. Took a rocket to the face, but it's healing up nicely. How have you been?"

"Did it affect your ability to understand simple requests? I need to speak to Shepard." Garrus fought an urge to smile at her annoyance. Maybe he should tell her that he and Shep had gotten even closer than before … that should piss her off.

"She's on mission," he said instead.

Liara huffed in annoyance, clearly not wanting to share her business with him.

"I could tell her you called …?"

"Never mind! I'll call her back later." She slammed the button down to end the call, and on Garrus's end the visual dropped. He wondered what she wanted. Well, he knew what she wanted, she'd always had an infatuation towards Shep. However, she seemed to have something more pressing on her mind. He should have kept her on the line longer. She'd sounded off-balance, but he hadn't had enough time to guess whether she was worse than she had been previously. She had said something so strange about William's untimely death –

_Of course, you're probably imagining it._ Yes, of course. He knew he was actually just trying not to stare at the clock until Shep reported in. Making Liara a target for his uneasy nerves was easier than thinking about it. About Shep, who needed constant medical intervention for the time being, but was going without it. To Omega, where a certain ruthless crime lord was still sitting in power after Shep had almost not helped her. If Aria was mad … if one of the merc groups saw Shep … if they actually found the ardat-yakshi serial killer and Shep wasn't at the top of her game ….

_I should go down there. Go as Archangel, and keep an eye out. _Garrus snorted. Sure, go as Archangel. Start a fucking melee just by showing up, leaving Shep dead in collateral damage. Wouldn't that be ironic? Even if no one recognized him, there was a chance that the ardat yakshi would notice his surveillance, no matter how careful he was. If he blew Shep's cover, he would probably get her killed. No, the only thing he could really do was wait. Wait, and watch the minutes not moving on his clock. What the hell did he used to fill his time with?

_Calibrations, _he reminded himself. Well, that was no good now. He'd calibrate them all to an early grave if he tried to work while he was this distracted. At some point, he had left the debriefing room, and now found himself at the cockpit.

"Hey, Joker," he said. Had he even spoken to Joker once since he came back on board? That didn't seem accurate, but it probably was. Past time to rectify the situation.

"Oh, hey … 'Spikes.'" Joker smirked and Garrus fetched a dramatic sigh, looking towards the ceiling.

"Mind if I sit?"

"Sure, no problem. Just don't hit any buttons, or we'll go straight through the wall of the docking bay. Just like learning to drive."

"What, now?"

Joker shrugged. Garrus watched him for a moment, then decided to dismiss it. He genuinely liked Joker, he really did, but half the time, he had no idea what the little pilot was talking about. Like now, for example.

"So, are you and the Commander polishing the porpoise yet?"

"What?"

"Have you parted the pink sea?"

"I don't –"

"You feeding the kitty? Taking the skin bus to tuna town? Is she riding the baloney pony?"

"Joker, I'm sorry, but I think my translator is giving me issues." Garrus hit a few buttons, trying to figure out why it was suddenly spouting such nonsense. Joker rolled his eyes, looking exasperated.

"Have you docked your _shuttle_ in her _landing bay_ yet?"

"Have I –" Sudden realization made him whirl away, mandibles tucking tight against his face. Shame was quickly replaced by horror, though, as the implication sank in. He knew that Shep was a very private person. If _Joker_ knew –

"Does everyone know we're – that we might –?" he asked in a strangled whisper.

"Nah, you're safe. Pervert-vision," Joker said, tapping his temple. "But, you know, don't wait too long. You know if the Commander ever gives up on you, you won't get a second chance."

"I, um … I have to leave now."

"Gotta go shellac the shillelagh?" Garrus got up from the co-pilot chair, trying to desperately ignore the last comment and keep the last remaining shred of his dignity intact.

"I'm going to pretend we never had this conversation." He walked away slowly, with his head held high, and only started writhing in embarrassment once he'd reached the privacy of the main battery. He spent the next several hours alternately disgraced by the phrasing of "riding the baloney pony" and fantasizing happily about the act implied by it. It wasn't until Shep was safely back on the ship that he realized Joker had saved him half a day of miserably picturing her death. He hugged Shep gently after checking to be sure no one was watching, swearing to himself to punch the man in the face the next time he saw him … and then thank him.


End file.
